


Do No Harm

by Ubermunchkin



Category: Zootopia
Genre: Gen, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD triggers, war zone
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-31
Updated: 2019-02-03
Packaged: 2019-09-30 23:47:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 13
Words: 29,133
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17233439
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ubermunchkin/pseuds/Ubermunchkin
Summary: Jeanine Bonnie Hopps MD joined Doctors Without Borders to make the world a better place. This is a philosophy she shared with her litter mate, Officer Judy Hopps, ZPD. She is sent on a relief mission with six other doctors and nurses to bring medical care to a remote village in Afghanistan, which was struck by disaster. What was meant to be a mission of mercy turns into a struggle for survival.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> I do not claim any ownership of any characters. The Walt Disney Company holds that honor.  
> I would like to extend my thanks to Ubernoner for letting me use his characters from his Sons of Efrafa series. Jeanine herself was inspired by a short appearance during a terrorist attack on the city of Zootopia in his story The Sons of Efrafa.  
> Though the tag warns of graphic descriptions of violence, I do not feel any of it was to pander to a need for gore; it is descriptive of a war zone.  
> I warn that this is not a happy story with a "they lived happily ever after" ending. I feel it is more a gritty depiction of the reality that shakes our world today. Still I hope you enjoy it.

Valerie Coneja shook her head and suppressed a groan at the article in  _ World Report _ she was reading. “Nasiri Caliphate seizes control of Khaf Iran.” 

Over the past five years, the pro-prey extremists had gone from being isolated and disparate groups to an organization that spanned several countries. When their efforts to control Anatolia were thwarted, they started taking control of large expanses in both Iran and Turkmenistan; they had been slowly bringing their two sections together.

The Iranian based group had started in the town of Mud near Birjand then spreading north and east to meet up with the Turkmenistan that had been taking control of land south and west from Tejen.

Her journalistic Spidey sense told her they were receiving financial support from somewhere; they had to considering they now had top-of-the-line, military-grade weapons and equipment and were recruiting worldwide via the dark web. 

She was gathering as much background information as she could so that she could present the idea for a story to her bosses at Bullhorn Telecommunications Group. 

She glanced apologetically at the woman behind the desk in the waiting room of J.L Deerborn, LCSW, MFT, PHD. She was waiting for her session and knew she shouldn’t be reading stressful articles right before meeting her therapist.

The door to Deerborn’s office closed and Valerie saw a female brown rabbit with a white muzzle drag herself over to drop onto the couch next to Valerie. She looked familiar and Valerie searched her mental databanks.

“You are Jeanine Bonnie Hopps, MD. I recognize you. You were the first medico on the scene outside Mystic Springs Oasis.” Valerie stuck out her paw. “I’m Valerie Coneja.”

The rabbit’s smile brightened. “From ZNN.” 

“How are you doing?” Valerie asked with concern. She had wondered what had happened to the first doctor on the scene of the terrorist attack that killed 33 mammals and injured 71 at the naturalist club. 

Jeanine’s smile was fleeting and pained. “Better,” she admitted. “What are you doing here?”

Valerie saw the doe wince. She smiled understanding what the rabbit meant. “I was in a war zone during my internship with the AP in Anatolia. That was four years ago; the Thule attacks didn’t help.” She patted the young doctor’s paw reassuringly. “It will get better. Did I hear right, you signed up to work for  _ Médecins Sans Frontières _ ?”

Jeanine’s smile spread to her eyes. “I leave for Brussels in three weeks.”

“Ms Coneja, Ms Deerborn will see you now. Dr. Hopps, I have your next appointment.” Their conversation was interrupted by the office receptionist.

“Nice to meet you, Ms Coneja.”

“Same here and good luck, Dr. Hopps.”


	2. Arrival at Togruk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jen arrives in Afghanistan with four other members of her team. They have to travel several hours over rough roads by bus to the stricken town of Togruk, where they finally see first-hand the devastation from a series of natural disasters that destroyed the village's health clinic. Now it is time get to work doing what they came to do, help the people.

ZPD Sgt. Judy Hopps lunged from her shower to her phone, shocked and worried to be getting a call at 5:45 in the morning. She squealed with delight when the caller ID stated ‘Dr Hopps’. “Jen, where are you?”

Dr. Jeanine Bonnie Hopps had finished her residency, as a trauma specialist, at Beth Hamel Hospital and immediately signed on with _Médecins Sans Frontières_ or MSF. She looked up at the bright summer-evening sun. “Heh, Jude the Dude, I just stepped off a blimp from Kabul’s Khwaja Rawash International Aerodrome and am in Herat waiting to get on the bus that will take us to the disaster site. It’s about a four-hour ride.”

Judy chuckled at her littermate’s enthusiasm. Jeanine had wanted to be a doctor as bad as Judy had wanted to be a cop; she and Judy both wanted to make the world a better place, though using different means. All their youth, they had stood up for each other’s dreams against their parents, who thought every kit would go into the agricultural business and help run the family farms. When Jeanine was accepted into the Z.U. pre-med program on a full scholarship, Stu and Bonnie Hopps couldn’t argue any longer; they lost two daughters to the big city that year.

Judy was six when she first confronted Gideon Grey; he started teasing Jeanine, who was smaller and less assertive than Judy. When they were nine and Gideon slashed Judy’s cheek, it was Jeanine who cleaned the wound and bandaged it; though she gently scolded her sister for antagonizing the bigger, heavier, angry young fox.

It had been great having Jeanine living in the city for all those years, especially before Judy began to make friends on the ZPD. After Judy busted Dawn Bellwether and her gang, it had been Jeanine who encouraged her to accept Chief Bogo’s offer to be reinstated on the force, rather than ‘slinking’ back to Bonnyborough to be a ‘lowly’ deputy.

Jeanine had been the first Hopps to meet Judy’s partner, Nick Wilde. Timid at first, Nick’s con-man charm and easy-going personality won her over to the point she called Nick to pick her up one late night when she was afraid to walk home alone.

There had been an angry wolf in the emergency room blaming Jeanine for his son’s predicament. The young wolf had been involved in a failed hate-group raid on Vulpington Commons; he broke his arm jumping out of a moving pickup truck. The boy had called his dad before the police arrested him and took his phone. His father arrived at the ER in a rage and security had to restrain him, so Jeanine could set and cast his son’s arm. After the police took the youth to jail, the angry dad threatened Jeanine and stormed off.

She called Nick. When he asked her why she hadn’t called Judy, she admitted it was because he was bigger and scarier. His laugh had helped her relax; as a result, she was able to fall asleep once he saw her safely into her apartment.

Now she stood on the tarmac of Herat’s aerodrome with a surgeon, an anesthesiologist, and two nurses, from around the world; two more, the dental team, would arrive later. They were headed to someplace none of them had heard of to treat disaster victims and provide medical care until the Afghan government could rebuild and restaff the local clinic. “I can’t believe I’m actually here,” she told her sister with an excited squeak.

“I am so proud of you, Jen, I could bust a gusset. If you’re ears start burning, it’s because I’m telling everyone what a fantastic thing you’re doing.” Judy noted the time and that she hadn’t dried, dressed, or eaten and she was supposed to be in the bullpen in 60 minutes. “Oh sh…-oot, I would love to talk but I gotta go. You keep in touch, Jen.”

“Oh, so do I. The bus just arrived. I’ll text you when I can. Where we’re headed doesn’t have the greatest reception, so we have to wait for the satellite to be in place. Love to all. Bye.” Jen ended the call, grabbed her two bags, and hurried after the others.

Dr. Dieter Schwartz, a grey wolf, grabbed her larger suitcase and in one smooth move, lifted it from the bus door into the overhead bin. “ _Sitz mit mir_ , Dr.  Hopps,” he said dropping into the first row and patting the empty seat beside him.

Everyone on the team spoke French, but when Dr. Schwartz, the team lead and surgeon, learned Jeanine had studied Germanic in high school and college, he made her use it.

She scrambled into the empty seat and admitted her excitement. Dieter’s response was a warm laugh.

Dr. Yuri Karpov, a Siberian tiger, was the anesthesiologist; Aliance Moultrand, a Gallic hare, was the surgical nurse; and Mado, an African golden cat, was Jen’s nurse.  Most of the bus was filled with their easily-carried equipment and luggage.

The bus had barely started rolling when Yuri started singing. He had a beautiful bass voice. Jen had asked him why he wasn’t singing with an opera company. He had shrugged and said he was still young and foolish and wanted to help people, he was 35.

It wasn’t long before he had everyone singing the chorus. No one knew Russian or had a clue what they were saying, but they all gave it their boisterous best, even shy Mado. The singing went around the group, each leading a song in their native language. Jen was certain some of Yuri’s were more risqué than the group would have liked if they knew, but it helped pass the time and provided them a chance to learn a little more about each other.

They stopped once for an opportunity to relieve themselves and eat something then hit the dusty, bumpy road again. It was nearly 11 p.m. when the bus lights panned across the rubble of Togruk, a village devastated by earthquakes and a mudslide. There were no lights, and the street was empty; the only sound was the bus. It stopped near a partially intact building; a Purrsian onager appeared carrying a lantern.

Dieter stepped off first and began speaking Arabic with the onager. He stuck his head back in and spoke in French to the medical team, “Grab what you can carry; we will unload the bus. Ahmad says we can sleep in the school.” He nodded his muzzle toward to the partially intact structure.

It took another hour to off load their gear and set up cots on which to sleep. People came out of the darkness and watched; some of the braver offered their help.

Jen gasped when she saw a listless lion cub with a mangled left arm being held in his father’s arms; the arm was very inexpertly wrapped in blood-soaked cloth. She set down the case she was carrying and hurried over. The father retreated a step until Ahmad said something in Pashto. The father slowly lay his child on the ground in front of Jen.

“This isn’t from the mudslide,” she said to Dieter in French. “This was caused by an explosion and very recently.” She used a flashlight to check the cub’s gums. “He’s lost a lot of blood.”

In Arabic, Dieter asked the father, “ _What happened?_ ”

“Mado, find the platelets. Yuri, set up something to operate on,” Jen started issuing orders as Ahmad translated into the local Pashto dialect.

The cub’s father spoke, his voice was choked with grief.

Dieter frowned as Ahmad spoke then translated for the team. “This morning, the Nasiri Caliphate attacked. A grenade landed near this lion’s house and the cub’s arm was injured. Many were killed.” His tone dripped with anger and disgust.

Jen shook her head. “What’s the Nasiri Caliphate?”

Dieter snorted and rubbed his greying muzzle. “An extremist group of herbivore supremacists. Yuri, I’ll set up a bed; you turn on the generator. Aliance prep the area for emergency surgery. Mado, get lighting. Everyone prep for surgery.” He turned to the father and explained in Arabic.

When Ahmad translated, the lion broke into tears and thanked Dieter profusely.

The sun was just below the eastern horizon and the sky turning grey when the surgery team collapsed on their unmade cots. They had saved the child’s life if not his arm. His father was sitting by his side while Mado stayed close, in the event something came up.

The sun was high when they woke, and they prepared to set up their clinic. They had no buildings but a radio call back to Herat informed them several League of Nations Forces (LoN-F) heavy-lifting dirigibles were on their way with the prefab mobile medical structures: triage room, recovery room, surgery, pharmacy/supplies, showers, quarters, morgue, and kitchen. The afternoon was spent positioning those; the triage, recovery, and surgery were all interlinked so that no patient had to be transferred through a non-sterile environment. The LoN-F engineers helped hook up the generators and move the equipment into place. As the sun was setting, the dirigibles took off leaving the six alone in the remote mountain village.

That evening they released the boy to his father. Jen gasped when she heard his mother and sisters had been killed in the attack the previous morning.

Mado drew the short stick that made her the cook for the night. Everyone pitched in with the preparation, but what they ate was up to her. She made plantains stuffed with corn, peas, and millet with sweet potato pie. She had been uncertain about the “plain” food she was preparing, but she was inordinately happy at everyone’s reaction. It was decided right then that all recipes had to be shared.

Jen sighed when she sat on the side of her cot in her PJs in the privacy of the female quarters. Her heart jumped into her throat at the image of the mourning father carrying his son to their shattered home.

“What is it?” Aliance asked. She was the eldest at 50. She had joined MSF after all her children had left home.

Jen explained about the Nighthowler incident followed by the Thule attacks in Zootopia. “I just can’t understand how someone can hate so much that they attacked this helpless, already stricken village.”

Mado pulled her knees up and hugged them, making herself as small as possible. There was fear in her eyes.

“Mado?” Jen asked. “Are you all right?”

“There is a group near my home. They think like this Nasiri that predators…”

“Carnivores,” Jen corrected firmly. “A predator is a hunter; I can be a predator.”

Mado gave a small smile and nodded. “They believe carnivores are less because we once hunted to eat meat. We have not done that in thousands of years. But they believe like that Dawn Bellwether and these Nasiri that we are dangerous and must be contained. The _Uzuri Baadaye_ attacked my village when I was 12. My father hid me, my mother, and sisters in the forest. He went back to help his brothers and father.” She fell silent a long time. “When we thought it safe to return to the village…”

“Those who hadn’t escaped were all dead, shot then beheaded: old, young, male, female, children, even infants,” Aliance finished. “I read about it in the news. Oh, poor Mado.” She sat beside the small cat and hugged her cooing as to a small child. “ _Uzuri Baadaye_ translates to Beautiful Future.” She rolled her eyes as she dramatized the words.

“Beautiful for whom?” Jen spat with an angry shake of her head. “What nonsense did they grow up believing?”

“That because there are more herbivores than carnivores, herbivores should be in charge. They perpetuate the lie that carnivores are dangerous to justify their beliefs to the world.” Aliance stood when Mado seemed to recover. “I’m taking a shower before those two males use up the hot water.”

Mado and Jen laughed as the hare hurried out.

Jen’s reminder beeped; she checked her phone and noticed that for the moment, the satellite was allowing for a signal “Arrived safely.” She hit send to the whole family and saw that it was delivered. She typed a longer text to Judy about her arrival and the child and learning of the attack.


	3. An Admirer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jen is settling into the routine of the clinic and learning more about her dorm-mates. She is coming to appreciate the beauty of this farming community when a peculiar group of young hares arrive. One in particular seems smitten and seeks Jen's favor. Their cultural differences are intriguing but she is hampered by a language barrier.

Judy had to ignore the buzz of the arriving message. Nick was approaching the truck cab cautiously, his taser at the ready. She was standing by her radio listening to McHorn announce he was responding as back up. The pickup’s plate had come back as belonging to a mammal of interest with an outstanding warrant.

“Drop it, drop it,” Nick yelled bringing the taser up.

Judy lunged for the other side of the cab her taser up as the door opened. A juvenile cheetah was making a break for it. She fired just barely hitting the youth. He rolled and was up and running on all fours. She dropped to all fours and took off after him.

“This is Sgt. Judy Hopps, I am in pursuit, Blueberry Lane and Pear Blossom Drive headed east.”

It wasn’t until after the perps were behind bars and the reports on Bogo’s desk, and she pulled out her phone to call her buck-friend that she noticed the message from Jen. She squealed with delight and opened the text.

Nick saw her look change to concern. “What’s up?”

“Jen says that the morning of the day they arrived, a group attacked the village she was sent to. A boy was severely injured, and his mother and sisters killed in the attack.” Judy shook her head. “Some extremist prey group.”

Nick squeezed her shoulder. “She’s one call away from the LoN-F. She’ll be fine.”

Judy shook her head. “I don’t know. That whole area is a tinderbox; it seems to be on the verge of erupting into something. I did a Gaggle® search about that region. Mostly tribal and the tribes are always fighting one another for some reason known only to them.” She looked up at Nick. “You know how sensitive she is.”

“She’ll be fine.” Nick chuckled at his partner’s protectiveness. “We’ve put two more Thules behind bars, now let’s go get something to eat. I’m starved.”

********

Jen was up with the sun. She watched it rise and light up a surprisingly vibrant world. Afghanistan was not all dirt. From the medical compound, Jen could see farmlands rolling out eastward, away from the mountains this village was tucked against. Having grown up on a farm, she could tell by the colors what was growing in which field: wheat, corn, saffron, cumin, barley, poppies, soy. She took a picture with her phone planning to send it to her parents. She noticed a return message from Judy admonishing her to keep safe.

She grabbed herself something to eat and decided to walk around Togruk. She had arrived in the night and been extremely busy the day before. The area had suffered from a drought; the mud slide had occurred after heavy rains and an earthquake with aftershocks. It had buried the clinic and part of the school. The slide happened just after the school had let out for the day. It was so quick that the entire clinic staff of five and one patient were caught in the building as the wall of mud engulfed it.

She could see where crews had been digging trying to reach the bodies. She turned to be suddenly confronted by 15 sealed coffins lined up in the street outside the hastily-repaired mosque. Ahmad, the onager who had met the bus with a lantern, saw her shocked expression. He mimicked someone firing an automatic weapon then entered the mosque.

These were victims of the attack that took place the morning before her team arrived. She felt sick. Rattled by the horrific violence, she turned back to the hospital compound. It was a small village, its total population about 2000 craftsmen with several hundred farms surrounding it. Peaceful by all evidence. During the Nighthowler and Thule incidents in Zootopia, she had been unable to fathom the hate that fueled such heinous and violent attacks; she still couldn’t understand it.

“You don’t look well,” Yuri greeted her when she walked into the kitchen. He pushed a coffee under her nose.

“The village is getting ready to bury those murdered the other day, 15 coffins; seven are children.” She dropped into a chair and stared at the steaming cup.

“We saved one; at least it is not eight children,” he pointed out.

“Was there no protection for them?” she asked, rhetorically.

Yuri gestured generally at the area. “There are no soldiers or police. Just people trying to live their lives.”

Dieter walked in followed by Aliance and Mado. “The Imam, Ahmad Ahmadzadi, said we are invited to attend the funerals.” It wasn’t a suggestion; he phrased it such that they would attend.

They spent the first half of the morning organizing the clinic and surgery then attended the mass funeral.

Jen noticed that the population was almost entirely onagers and lions. In her research, she didn’t remember seeing anything about lions living in Afghanistan and decided this was an isolated tribe. She had noticed that among those who went into the mosque was a very old lion to whom everyone deferred. She decided he must be the patriarch of the local lions.

The team stood outside the mosque with the overflow and listened to the service carried on the powerful voice of Ahmad. When the caskets were brought out, they fell in behind the local crowd and followed the wailing loved ones to a cemetery on the northwest side of the village. Ten graves waited, some large enough to hold more than one coffin. Each coffin was gently lowered into the ground.

Jen saw the lion father and his son standing near a large grave with three coffins, a wife-mother and two daughters. She couldn’t stop her tears and let her grief join those who knew these people. She glanced over at Mado, who was sobbing uncontrollably. The two embraced supporting each other before the crowd began to break up and everyone returned to their homes or places of work.

Back at the clinic, they found a line forming. People from out-lying farms were among local villagers. The clinic was in business.

After dinner, Jen took a selfie of her and Aliance and Mado all three looking tired but happy. She titled it “making the world a better place.” When the satellite was in position, she sent it and the photo of the countryside to her family with a recap of the day. They had treated burns, fevers, injuries, and sniffles. They had confirmed two females to be pregnant and did a wellness check on a days-old infant, born at home after the clinic was destroyed. They were able to give an arthritic village elder some salve to ease his joint pain. They had rebandaged the boy who lost his arm and saw that the stump was clean and should heal well.

Dieter announced that the dentist and dental technician MSF was sending would be accompanied by a Pashto interpreter who would also handle intake. They would arrive within a week.

Back in her quarters, Jen wrote a letter to Judy detailing everything that had happened since their arrival and the impending arrival of additional help. She talked about how rewarding it felt to know she had eased someone’s pain or worry. She also described the funeral and how she felt a part of the grief even though she had just arrived. She told how the people brought fruits and vegetables or crafts to the clinic to pay for their care, not understanding that it was free. She explained how Dieter finally accepted the gifts and had made the crew _Kartofeln Salat_ , _Sauerkraut_ and _Streusel_ for dinner. The letter was filled with everything she was uncertain about sending via her phone in an area with shaky connectivity. She told her sister to share “what parts of this you think won’t freak out Mom and Dad.” It would go out on the next supply truck.

As she was addressing and stamping the envelope, she heard music. She and Mado went outside into the early evening light and followed the sound. It led them to the village square. Yuri and Aliance were there sitting in the grass under a tree listening to onagers and lions playing instruments – a tanbur, zerbaghali, dayereh, and tabla – while a young lion sang in a clear tenor. She and Mado joined their co-workers and absorbed the haunting music.

She wondered what the song was about then decided by the tone of the singer’s voice and his expressions that it was a love song. Almost as an afterthought, she started recording the performance on her phone. She would send it when the satellite was in optimum position; she had the schedule programmed into her phone.

The next song was livelier, and an onager and two lions started dancing. On one pass, they pulled Yuri to his feet to join them. Everyone was laughing and clapping as the big cat found his stride and managed the steps.

Jen smiled up at Dieter chuckling at the anesthesiologist.

Between the next two songs, a particularly handsome, dark-brown, young hare walked up to Aliance carrying a poppy blossom. Jen had not noticed the group of strangers; they must have arrived sometime in the afternoon while she was in the clinic. His approach was met with ohs and ahs and some chuckles among the villagers. The jack was dressed in a loose, long, embroidered, flax coat bound at the waist by a red and blue sash secured by an ostrich-leather belt. A long, slightly-curved sword was stuck into the sash. He wore a blue and red turban - its pattern matched the sash - his dark-brown ears with white tips protruded through. Under his coat, he wore very loose dark-colored pantaloons. The Purrsian hare bowed his head and spoke to the Gallic hare.

Aliance gasped, “Uh, Fransawi?”

The buck looked horrified and shook his head.

Dieter laughed and leaned over to speak to the young buck in Arabic.

The baffled young male gulped and answered Dieter in Arabic. There was a short exchange.

“He thinks Jen is pretty and is asking your permission to approach her. The flower is a token of his admiration.” Dieter finally explained to Aliance.

“Why doesn’t he ask me?” Jen asked slightly miffed.

“Apparently, it wouldn’t be proper,” Dieter answered in a fatherly tone.

Aliance rolled her eyes. “I don’t care if he talks to Jen. Jen, do you mind?”

“He seems to need your approval,” Dieter explained as Jen shook her head.

Aliance rolled her eyes again, gestured at Jen, and smiled nodding.

The jack smiled disarmingly, turned to Jen, and offered her the poppy blossom.

“How do I respond?” she asked trying to hide her embarrassment.

“Smile, nod your head, accept the blossom, and say _skukraan_ ,” Dieter told her.

Jen did as he said and was rewarded with a dazzling smile. The young jack bowed, said something, and went back to sit with his friends. She saw them chuckle and poke him. She noticed that they were all similarly dressed.

Mado leaned over. “It seems, you have an admirer.”

“Who is he?” Jen asked working at not staring.

“I shall inquire,” the wolf told her. He found Ahmad. He came back with his ears back and a bemused expression. “Well, it seems he is a young stud of some prominence. He is a member of an Efrafan tribe of Arabian ostrich herders, who came from Khargushi, just across the border in Purrsia.”

“Efrafans? From Purrsia? What are they doing here?” Aliance asked.

“What are Efrafans?” Jen asked. “Wait, I think my sister has a friend on the police force who’s Efrafan.”

“I am descended from Lapino hares who came to Gaul with the Reman army. Lapinos are descended from Efrafans, who were the fighting caste of the Nemean lions of ancient Purrsia,” Aliance explained. “We are in ancient Purrsia and, I am guessing, the lions of this village are descended from those Nemean lions and those Efrafans are descended from that fighting caste.”

Jen watched as the five strapping young hares came to their feet and began dancing energetically.

“Does he have a name?” Jen asked.

Dieter chuckled. “The Imam said it was Abhaysimha Owsla.”

“ _Owsla_? That’s his title. He’s _Owsla_!” Aliance’s eyes widened.

“What’s that mean?” Jen asked.

“He’s a defender of the warren, a warrior.”

“Warrior hares?” Yuri furrowed his striped brow in confusion. “Whoever heard of such a thing?”

“Efrafans,” Aliance replied with a shrug and a smile. “I would wager, every one of those young hares is _Owsla_ by their – er - fitness.”

“You mean their hot bods,” Mado ventured bravely and giggled.

Jen laughed as well. She had come to put Aliance in the same matronly category as her mother; they were about the same age. Jen couldn’t imagine Bonnie Hopps making a sexual innuendo.

She pointed out to Yuri that Abhaysimha was wearing a sword.

“Sword? That is a toothpick to me,” the large Siberian tiger said with a grin that bared his fangs.

“I wouldn’t put him to the test, if I were you,” Aliance warned. “ _Owsla_ were the warrior caste serving lion kings to fight other lion armies.” She grinned. “You’re just another big-cat target to him.”


	4. Jen & Abhay

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The last two members of the team and an interpreter arrive. Jen and Abhaysimha get to know each other better.

Judy and Nick sat in their cruiser outside Cat Cafe noshing on bean buns. Though she was now a sergeant and Nick a detective, they were still on the street, cleaning up the last of the “Thule infestation,” as Nick called it.

Judy opened a letter from Jen; she found it in her mailbox before coming on duty. They had the swing shift this week.

“So, how’s the sweet, little, bunny doctor doing?” Nick asked after swallowing.

Judy read the entire letter out loud. She had nothing to hide from her partner and BFF.

Nick whistled. “Don’t tell your parents about the Nasiri attack or the funeral. Heh, Jacob was involved with the Nasiri when he was stationed in Anatolia. He said it was some really bad shit.”

“No, he said, ‘Ask me in five years’,” Judy growled.

“That is military jingo for ‘really bad shit’,” Nick explained.

Judy pulled up a picture on her phone Jen had sent showing the distant farm fields. “It looks like a nice area.”

Nick snorted. “Not enough buildings for my taste.”

“City boy,” Judy said with a smile.

“Car-54, Car-54, 10-10 Tajunga and Vine.”

Judy dropped everything, switched on the blue and whites and took off with sirens blaring as Nick acknowledged the call.

Back at her apartment that evening, Judy found the picture from Jen of a brown hare dancing in traditional clothing. She stared at the sword; it looked like the one her friend Jacob Raibert had been wearing while he was activated with the LoN-F. The following text message asked her to ask ‘your friend’ about Efrafans. Judy wondered a moment about that then realized the hare in the photo was probably Efrafan. She’d ask Sgt. Raibert when the gang met for bad movie night.

********

The following week, the supply truck arrived with Dr. Dorcas Robertson, a red fox, her assistant Lana James, a red squirrel, and the Pashto interpreter Farjaad, a pika. The three climbed out dusty and tired. They and their luggage had been riding on boxes of food and medicine. Jen helped Dorcas and Lana settle into the “ladies’ tent” while Yuri led Farjaad off to settle him in the “mam cave”.

“As of yet, we haven’t had much call for dentistry,” Jen said leading the other two to the kitchen.

“That will likely change once they know we’re here,” Dorcas said in her rolling Alban brogue. She stopped and looked in response to a shout. It came from one of the team that was clearing mud away from the buried medical clinic.

“They found another body,” Jen explained in a quiet voice. This was the fourth of six. They had pulled two out the day before and one the day before that; those deceased were from other areas and were waiting in the morgue for transportation to Herat and from there to their homes.

“How long ago did the accident happen?” Lana asked. She was Velabri from southwest Hibernia and had a thick Gaelic accent.

“About two and a half weeks ago,” Jen explained.

“So, there’s no hope…” Lana started.

“No.” Jen’s response was curt. It had been explained to her that due to the remoteness of the village, no rescue teams could get there in time to save anyone under the mud. Her team had actually been the first outsiders to arrive. It irritated her that this village seemed to be ignored by its government.

The shout had brought out others, and all watched silently, reverently as a body was extricated from the mud, carefully wrapped, and carried off the worksite. As the body was carried past, Jen recognized the handsome hare from the dance and three of his friends. Abhaysimha smiled sadly at her as they passed in silence.

When she first saw him and his friends at the dance, he had been wearing his traditional Purrsian herder robes and a sword. Now he was dressed in light-colored, very loose shirt and pants and a long, open vest of the same red and blue pattern as the sash and turban he had been wearing. Today he wore a hardhat. He looked like he had just stepped off any construction site in Kabul.

She had learned since that night that he had arrived leading the small group of Efrafans from his tribe; they had brought seven ostriches and gifted them to the ancient patriarch of the local tribe of lions. They then stayed and were now helping with the excavation and recovery of the bodies.

She didn’t want to think about the lions eating the ostriches, though she understood that they did. Abhaysimha’s tribe were nomadic ostrich herders. They used the ostriches as mounts but also traded some to carnivores. It was a huge deal that they had gifted seven to the locals; it was an unprecedented gift.

Jen found herself wishing she could talk to the young jack. She thought it might be fascinating to hear about his life and his culture.

She had sent a picture of him dancing to Judy and asked her to ask her Efrafan coworker to provide some insight to Abhaysimha. She hadn’t heard back yet, but then the satellite hadn’t been in position for transmission.

“Come, Dorcas, Jen, let us examine the deceased.” Dieter led them to the pre-fab structure that was the morgue. Their job was to identify the body, ascertain cause of death, and prepare the body for burial or return to the family.

Jen found herself in the doorway with Abhaysimha. There was some chuckling as they jostled around each other. Suddenly his hand was on her shoulder. She looked up into his brown eyes.

“Abhaysimha ibn Karim,” he said pointing to himself.

“Jeanine Hopps,” she answered. “Hello, A-bay-sim’a ib-in Kareem.” She said the name carefully

“Khell-oh, Jah-neen Khopps- _fa_ ,” he responded with a gentle smile and bow of his head. He then left.

“Hopps- _fa_?” Jen looked at Aliance.

“I know about the Efrafans; that’s where it ends. He kept calling me _Marli-fa_.” She shrugged.

“ _Fa_ is an Efrafan title of respect,” Farjaad explained in French. “ _Marli_ , is mother or matron. He was calling you, respected matron.”

Jen’s heart skipped as she realized she had someone who could explain things to her and allow her to talk to Abhaysimha. She was full of questions, but a grim task lay before them.

Dorcas took an imprint of the deceased male Jackal’s teeth to compare against dental records. Jen reviewed and recorded every injury to his body and extricated samples of dust and mud mixed with blood from the mouth. Dieter took a DNA sample from the victim’s marrow, which came from a protruding bone, and secured it to be sent to a lab in Kabul.

Farjaad explained that an autopsy was anathema to Muslims. Islam didn’t approve of ‘desecrating’ the body, so the autopsy was as un-invasive as possible.

By his species and sex, they ascertained that this was the body of Dr. Parwaiz Karzai, the gynecologist/obstetrician. They would use his dental records and DNA to confirm that.

The cause of death, blunt-force trauma. He had bled out internally when a wall or the roof fell on him. The first body they examined had survived the initial collapse of the building but had died of suffocation trying to claw out from under the mud. There were still two bodies in the collapsed clinic, the patient and a nurse, both locals.

Jen stepped out of the windowless structure and drank in the warmth of the sunlight and the breeze on her face. She had a pang of guilt as she thanked Frith she was alive.

She blinked when a shadow fell across her. Abhaysimha smiled at her and held out half a falafel. He nodded his head toward the shade of an olive tree.

“ _Merci_ ,” she said automatically. Among the team, they spoke French all the time as it was the common language; it was becoming more automatic to her than her native Anglican.

He indicated eating his half of the falafel then bit into it. She bit into hers. Saffron, cumin, olives, it was an explosion of flavors. She closed her eyes and sighed with pleasure. She felt her ears go pink when he chuckled at her reaction.

One of his friends sauntered past and shouted something. She guessed from Abhaysimha’s response that he had told his friend to shut up. The other hare laughed and kept on going.

Jen indicated Aliance headed their way with a jug of water and two cups. “Uh, _Marli_ say you _Owsla_?” She sighed when she saw Farjaad the translator following Aliance.

Abhaysimha considered what she said for a moment then nodded. “ _Owsla_.” He pointed at his chest.

“I want to know about his being an _Owsla_ ,” she told Farjaad as Aliance set down the water and cups. “Thank you, Aliance.” Jen poured water into the two cups as Farjaad and Abhaysimha spoke.

“He says he is _Owsla_ for his tribe; he protects anyone who cannot protect themselves. He says he is third under _Owsla-fa_ Jahangir, his commander.” Farjaad paused as Abhaysimha said more. “His family has been _Owsla_ for twelve generations, since the revolution against the Safavid Dynasty. His great-grandfather was _Owsla-fa_ freeing the tribe from Britannia’s tyranny.”  He listened more. “ _Owsla-fa_ is very important among Efrafans. He asks that you speak of yourself.”

“Oh, well, I grew up on a farm like those.” She gestured toward the eastern farms. “My mother’s family and my father’s family have been farmers for… oh, forever, since before they came over from Europa and founded Bonnyborough. I wanted to be a doctor to help people. That’s why I joined _Médecins Sans Frontières_.” She shrugged feeling it wasn’t nearly as interesting as his back-story.

She saw Abhaysimha’s eyes widen. “Doctor?” he asked with astonishment. She nodded. He whistled then spoke.

“He says he is very impressed. He has never met a female doctor before. He says your mothers must be very proud of you.”

Jen blinked in surprise. She had never had anyone reference the pride of her mothers. She stifled a chuckle. Everyone said either “your father” or “your parents” must be proud. She realized how important mothers must be in his society.

“Dr. Hopps, patients!” Dieter suddenly broke into the pleasant interlude with reality.

“Gotta go.” She hopped to her feet, finished off her cup of water, and jogged off.

Farjaad explained where she was going then followed.

Abhaysimha gathered up the water and cups and took them to the door of the kitchen; he left them on the ground to the side. He then headed up onto the mud bank to continue his gruesome work.

********

At the insistence of Dieter, Farjaad started giving lessons in Pashto so that the team members could at least buy things, show appreciation, ask simple health questions, and understand simple answers. Farjaad was pleased with their collective ears for the language. That wasn’t too surprising considering each member spoke at least their native tongue and French, if not another language. Apparently, Aliance spoke Castillan in addition to her native Gaulic.

Jen began practicing her Pashto on Abhaysimha during her down time. He was a very patient tutor. She started looking forward to the time she spent with him.

Over the next week, the last two bodies were recovered from the destroyed clinic, Dr. Kazai’s nurse, a lioness, and his patient, a young, pregnant onager. Both families were there wailing in grief as the bodies were brought back into the light. Dr. Karzai’s and the other three bodies had gone back to Kabul on a supply truck.

Dieter had the families brought in. They identified their loved ones, and the two deceased females were released for local burial.

Jen noticed that though the locals were loath to deal with the dead, Abhaysimha and his friends had no qualms. She was impressed with how careful and reverential they were in their handling of the bodies. They were the ones who bathed them in oil and wrapped them in linen and placed them in their coffins the morning of the funerals.

After the funeral service, all the villagers gathered in a semi-circle around the two coffins, which lay in the shade of an olive tree outside the mosque. Abhaysimha and his four friends stepped forward, dressed as they had been the night she first met him.

Abhaysimha began a recitation as the five formed a circle around the caskets; they began rhythmically stomping the ground and chanting. Farjaad translated. She began recording on her phone.

“They are attracting the attention of Inle-Rah; Keharr would take the souls of those who died cowardly in battle. They speak of the lives these two led – a healer and a mother – and the courage they showed in life. That is to confuse Keharr so he does not steal their souls.”

Jen knew the legend of Keharr. She understood what Abhaysimha and his friends were doing. However, she had never seen or heard of this ceremony before.

The Efrafans moved rhythmically in a circle around the bodies. Abhaysimha’s tenor voice sang a lyrical melody and though she didn’t understand the words she could easily imagine the story he was telling about the two females. She suddenly realized to do this, he had to have spent a lot of time with both families to learn as much as he could about the deceased. She found herself swaying, as the villagers did to the song. She was sad when the beautiful eulogy ended, and the families stepped forward to carry their loved ones to their final resting place.

Again, the medical team took part in the procession and the grave-side ceremony. As the villagers broke up and left the grave sites to the families and their grief, Jen noticed one of the Efrafans take up a position between the two graves.

“They will guard their souls until Malak Al-Maut comes to take them for their judgment,” Farjaad explained.

“Malak Al-Maut is the angel of death,” Mado explained.

“Legend says Kehaar, or Malak Al-Maut, arrives in the dark of the night of the new moon to gather souls,” Jen said.

“That’s two and a half weeks away,” Aliance stated amazed.

Farjaad shrugged, “So be it.”


	5. The Warning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things are going well at the clinic. Residents are getting the care they need and Jen and Abhaysimha are getting to know each other. However, it comes time for him and his brothers to return to his tribe and his Owlsa-fa, his commander.  
> He returns suddenly with a dire warning to flee.

“Oh my God, who picked that movie?” Judy wailed dramatically covering her eyes.

“It is BAD movie night,” Jacob Raibert laughed at her theatrics.

“Bad, not nauseatingly horrific,” Judy glared at him.

“You think that’s bad, what till you watch… THIS.” Nick’s fiancée, Zabrina Adame, held up a Bluejay™ jacket with a giant beach ball, covered in blood, bouncing along while mammals in bathing suits ran in terror.

“I need another beer before I drink in that,” Jacob trotted into Nick’s kitchen. The tall, black hare pulled out several brews as he received orders from the others.

Judy tucked into another piece of the veggie pizza.

“So, how’s your sister doing?” Valerie Coneja asked being more careful to eat just celery.

“Oh, that reminds me, Jacob; she met a young hare who is apparently Efrafan.”

“Really?” Jacob’s ears popped up beyond the kitchen counter.

“Yeah, hold on, I have her text and a picture.”

“O-o-o, he’s handsome,” Valerie admired the picture.

“So, what am I, chopped onions?” Jacob feigned hurt as he returned carrying the beers.

“You’re mine, _petit Ombra_ ,” Valerie teased back and kissed his cheek.

He set down the beers and wiped condensation off his paws before taking Judy’s phone. He gave an expression of appreciation. “ _Owsla_ , no doubt, from eastern Purrsia by his dress, an ostrich rider guessing from his sword belt and the leather boots and patch on his pantaloons.” He handed the phone back. “So, what’s she want to know?”

Judy was impressed he got all that off a still of the hare dancing. She shrugged. “She just asked me to ask you about Efrafans. I’ve gotten a number of pictures of him and his buddies.” She smiled slyly. “I think she’s taken a liking to him. What should I tell her?”

Jacob rubbed his muzzle a moment. “Give me her address; I’ll write her a letter. It would be a bit much for a text message to someplace that SOMETIMES gets reception.”

Judy scrounged up a piece of paper and wrote Jen’s mailing address. She handed it to Jacob, who stuffed it in his pocket. “Let the torture begin,” he shouted exuberantly and plopped down next to Valerie.

********

“Mail call,” Yuri shouted across the compound. He loved doing that, it reminded him of his days with the Siberian Defense Force. “Mado.” He handed her a small package. “Dieter.” He handed him a medical journal. “Lana.” She got a small letter envelope. “Dorcas.” Another small package. “Aliance.” He handed her a thick manila envelope.

“At last, my divorce,” Aliance grinned and skipped off. “Drinks on me!”

Everyone laughed since they had no alcohol, only canned sodas in the kitchen fridge.

“Jeanine.” Yuri handed her a thick letter envelope. “Me.” He grinned at a large care-package.

Everyone wandered off to open their mail. Jen sat under the tree she often shared with Abhaysimha. She didn’t recognize the name, J. E. Raibert but the first line of the letter answered who this mammal was.

“Dr. Hopps; you don’t know me but your sister, my friend and co-worker, Sgt. Judy Hopps asked me to tell you about Efrafans. I am going to assume you know nothing and start from the beginning.

“4,000 years ago, the Nemean lion kings bred hares to provide mobile food while their armies were campaigning. As time passed, my ancestors proved themselves more valuable than as just a food source; we proved to be fighters. The lions began to manipulate our breeding to promote the traits of speed, strength, and aggression. Only those offspring that did not meet their standards remained a food source; the rest of us became part of their armies as a shock force, or ‘black ops’ as we would say today. Your acquaintance and I are descended from those fighters, a long and proud history of warriors.

“About 2,500 years ago, we revolted against a Nemean, King Darius; alongside Alexander of Macedon we defeated King Darius. In appreciation, we gave our support to Alexander the Great. Under his army, we spread the length and breadth of Ancient Purrsia and gained our independence. Our leader, Ephrain, created a capital for us in the area now known as Cappadocia, in central Anatolia. That is when we became known as Efrafans. Over the centuries, we have continued to fight against invasion and injustice.

“There are three levels of note within the society of Efrafans: Matriarchs, _Owsla_ , and _Owsla-fa_. With the males always off at war, our society counted on the stability of the females to keep our culture, economy, and families back home. We are a matriarchal society. _Owsla_ is a term that refers to those who become fighters or are just really large. The _Owsla-fa_ is a special title that refers to an _Owsla_ who distinguishes him- or her-self in defense of the helpless or the warren. _Owsla_ will fight to the death to protect someone they care about, make no mistake on that. To be _Owsla_ is to sacrifice yourself for the well-being and safety of the warren.

“Allow me to quickly address our continued relation with lions; we revere and respect them despite their treatment of us. Do not be surprised to see an Efrafan defer to a lion, especially an elderly lion. I hope this helps you understand your acquaintance. Sincerely Jacob E. Raibert”

Jen regarded the long letter. It was much more than she expected. Sgt. Raibert had taken time to write a very detailed letter to someone he didn’t know. She smiled; the letter explained a lot, like why Abhaysimha’s tribe had gifted seven valuable ostriches to the local lions and why he and his friends stayed to help the villagers.

********

Jen was returning from the shower when she heard the hiss of an ostrich. Abhaysimha was riding down the street toward her, followed by his friends.

As he approached, he called for Farjaad. The pika eagerly darted over. Abhaysimha dismounted and held out a saffron blossom to Jen as he spoke.

“He says last night was the new moon, now they must return to their tribe. He wishes you the greatest success and hopes to perhaps see you again. If that is acceptable to you, please take the saffron bloom.”

Jen smiled up at the tall hare. She took the blossom and inhaled its fragrance. “I find that acceptable,” she told Abhaysimha in Pashto. Her linguistic effort was rewarded with a wide smile.

Abhaysimha bowed and spoke again.

“He says may your mothers smile upon you; may you be great in their eyes and walk in their footsteps.”

“Farewell, Jah-neen Khopps- _fa_ ,” Abhaysimha said. He turned and mounted the impatient ostrich and rode away down the street.

Jen felt sad. “Thank you, Farjaad.” She went into the sleeping quarters she shared with the other females and put the blossom in water. She understood why he had to leave but that didn’t make her feel any less aggrieved.

“I saw them leaving, your friend and his brothers,” Mado said laying a sympathetic hand on Jen’s shoulder.

“I hadn’t realized how attached to him I had become,” Jen admitted. She looked at the letter lying on top of her bedside table then started to put it in the top drawer of her desk.

“Is that a letter from him?” Mado ventured.

“No, it’s a letter from a friend of my sister. He’s an Efrafan too.” She read Jacob’s letter to Mado.

“That is fascinating. They have such a rich and ancient history,” Mado said.

“So do your mammals,” Jen pointed out. She sat on Mado’s cot beside the small cat. “You were telling me those ancient stories. I don’t know any ancient stories of my lineage. We’re Bavarian on Pop’s side and Pictish on Mom’s. Mom’s great-great-great (she counted on her fingers) grandfather moved into the Palouse River region near what is now Zootopia about 150 years ago after the Confederation Civil War and founded Bonnyborough, though most people say Bunnyburrow.” Jen shrugged at that. “Someone even put it on the sign as you enter town. The fact that it was settled by Gaelic Pictish Rabbits is getting lost.”

“What stories did your mother tell?” Mado asked.

Jen chuckled. “Mostly stories about her 122 brothers and sisters and growing up on the farms, the trouble they would get into, the discoveries they made, swimming in a pond they created by blocking a creek.” She looked off into the distance. “I remember when Judy and I were ten, we made a raft out of stalks and leaf leavings from the corn crop. We were going to paddle down the stream, to the river, and into Zootopia over 200 miles away, to go shopping.” She chuckled. “We didn’t get very far. Our raft sank after about 100 feet. We had to wade out through a swamp. Mom was so angry when we walked in tracking wet mud and soggy plant material across her freshly cleaned kitchen floor. She dragged us outside and hosed us down. She made us strip down and dry off before going in. Once we were dressed, she made us reclean her kitchen floor.”

Mado chuckled at the story. It was so full of the antics of kits and kittens. “Our hut had a dirt floor, but Momma was very particular about us mussing it up after she swept, especially after Poppa…” She fell silent for a bit. “It’s been 21 years and I still miss him and my cousins.”

Jen gave her a hug. “You will always miss him. He was your dad.” She straightened at the sound of the dinner bell. “Lana’s cooking tonight; let’s go help.”

*********

Two days later, the clinic was taking a break for lunch; Jen headed into the village to purchase an oil lamp that she would give to her mother for Christmas. She heard the distinctive sound of running ostriches. She saw Abhaysimha and three of his brothers returning to the village at a run. She smiled, until he leapt off the running creature and hammered desperately on the door of Babak, the elder lion.

His three friends scattered to other homes of village lions and also hammered on the doors. The commotion brought residents into the street.

When the wife of the elder answered the door, Abhaysimha spoke fast and frantically. The elder lioness cried in alarm and hurried back into the house.

Jen looked around as residents began running back into their homes. Something was wrong, something was happening, and she couldn’t figure out what. They were all speaking too fast and her knowledge of Pashto didn’t include much of what they were saying. She spun and ran back to the compound.

“Farjaad, something is up. Abhay and his brothers returned and everyone in the village is in a panic,” she announced when she found the translator.

She cleared the doorway to allow the pika to bolt out. Everyone followed him toward the village center. Abhaysimha met him and started gesticulating toward the west and speaking urgently. Farjaad didn’t translate until the young hare was done.

He spun back to the team, his face stricken. “A company of the Nasiri Caliphate army is on their way here. They are about six hours away. They are coming for the carnivores. We must flee.” He bolted back for the compound.

“We aren’t going anywhere,” Dieter announced firmly.

Abhaysimha rushed up to Jen. “Hello, Jah-neen Khopps- _fa_. All must go. Come.” He indicated she come with him.

She shook her head. “No, I can’t.” Farjaad had disappeared. “I must help.”

Dieter spoke loudly in Arabic for all to hear and explained that the medical team would remain. He knew there were those who could not travel, and the team would be here for them.

Abhaysimha looked stricken. “Will kill!” he pointed at the four carnivores of the medical team.

Jen shook her head. “No, we are doctors.”

Abhaysimha drummed his foot in frustration obviously fighting some inner battle. A shout drew his attention. One of his brothers was indicating Babak. Abhaysimha rubbed his eyes then gave Jen one last pleading look.

“No,” she stated resolutely and with a shake of her head. She saw the father lion carry his injured son out the village gate; he had a backpack over his shoulder.

With obvious sadness, Abhaysimha nodded, then went to help the lion tribal elder flee the approaching, anti-carnivore Nasiri.

Jen spun to find herself face to face with Mado. The cat was in tears, absolute terror painted on her face. “No, I… I…” She fled back into the females’ dormitory. The other females followed.

“Mado?” Jen asked.

“No, I cannot stay. They will kill us just like the _Uzuri Baadaye_ ,” Mado said through tears stuffing changes of underwear into a small backpack. “Do not ask me to stay.” She slung it over her shoulder. “I am not brave like you.”

Aliance and Lana gave her a hug. Jen hung back but followed her out the door.

“Abhay, Abhay,” Mado yelled running toward the departing Efrafans. She yelled something in Arabic.

Abhaysimha spun his mount and raced back lifting her up in front of him. He gave one last pleading look to Jen. When she shook her head again, he touched his heart, his lips, and his forehead, then spun his mount and galloped off.


	6. Darkness Falls

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The medical team has received the warning and think they are ready when a company of the Nasiri Caliphate move in and occupy the Town. The outcome is devastating. Now begins the struggle for survival of the remaining team members and puts Jen's adherence to the Hippocratic oath to the test. She knows she must establish an uneasy truce with the Nasiri commander; easier said than done.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter the is the reason for the tags attached to this story. PLEASE, if you have, or could possibly have, any PTSD issues, be sure to have your support network available. The impact on my Beta reader was profound.

Judy dropped into the booth at McGruff’s. It was run by a retired police officer and was a favorite eating establishment and watering hole for off-duty officers. Nick slid in opposite her and set their beers down.

“Success! The Thule Society is DONE in Zootopia,” the red fox cheered, lifting his mug.

Judy was not so exuberant. Her shoulder hurt like the devil. “That gets those two off the streets.” She gently touched her mug to his.

“Nice take-down, guys,” Fangmeyer, wolf, and Fangmeyer, his adopted tiger sister, both reached in to pat the two smaller officers on the shoulders.

Judy flinched at the touch. “That bloody, big, black wolf, _Der Schauspieler_ , slammed me into a bollard. I’ve got a bruise the size of Britannia on my shoulder and back.”

“You one bad mamma-jamma,” Fangmeyer the tiger said slipping into the booth beside the rabbit. She was grinning from ear to ear, every shiny white fang in her mouth showing. “I heard Investigator Cooper-Montoya say that Interpol busted the Thule headquarters in Bonn and ‘ _Die Adolf_ ’ is in chains.” She gave a fist pump.

“Oh,” Judy shifted to take her phone out of her back pocket. “A text from my sister.”

“So, how’s she doing? Did Jacob send that letter?” Nick asked. “Wendy, a beer each for our fellow officers.” He indicated the Fangmeyers.

“My treat, a round for all, for a job well done.” Everyone’s eyes widened as none other than Chief Bogo, in a polo and khakis, stood in the doorway.

“So which sister is this?” Fangmeyer the tiger asked.

“Jeanine, the saw-bone; she’s in Podunk Afghanistan with Doctors without Borders.” Nick explained. “Fluff’s lucky she hears anything from her.”

“She says, ‘Tell Jacob thanks. Sending you a letter’. Oh, there’s a picture came through.” She adjusted the phone so that the others could see it. Five hares in native dress around two coffins.

“That’s depressing,” Wolford noted over Fangmeyer the wolf’s shoulder.

“The clinic there was wiped out in a mudslide. Jen and her team are there…”

“An _Inle Hain_!”

Everyone turned to regard the tall, black hare in the LoN-F uniform.

“Raibert!” Everyone greeted him at once.

He stoically suffered the greetings.

“What’s an _Inle Hain_?” Judy asked.

“A funeral ceremony essentially. Can I join the party or is this ZPD only?” he didn’t need an answer as someone made space for him in the booth, which was getting cramped with the tiger and the wolf and the fox and the rabbit and the hare and half the ZPD day shift and Chief Bogo.

*******

It was dark, and the team was in the mess tent cleaning up after supper when they heard the roar of vehicles followed by shouts, rifle fire, and screams.

Jen had never heard rifle fire. Every crack was like a jolt of electricity through her body.

“Everyone, stay calm.” Dieter spoke soothingly. “Do not panic. I know the fear you feel, but we must stay calm.”

No one argued with him, but Jen’s heart felt like it would burst out. She suddenly wished she had gone with Mado and Abhay. She squeezed her eyes shut and took a deep breath as running feet approached the medical compound.

Dieter put down the dish towel and went to the door. He opened it and stepped back so that anyone outside could see everyone inside. Nothing to hide here.

A towering Purrsian fallow deer stood with his rifle up. He was dressed in a hodge-podge of cast-offs from different military organizations. He shouted orders in Purrsian. Dieter responded calmly in Arabic. The deer glared murderously at the tall doctor then grumbled in Arabic.

“He says we are to go outside. Paws in the air,” Dieter raised his paws and quietly did as requested.

His calm spread through the team, and they did as ordered. They were marched to the village square and told to kneel.

It seemed the entire village was gathered kneeling. Jen knelt between Dr. Robertson and Ahmad, the Imam. Children were crying as their parents tried to sooth them vocally, unable to reach out and hold them.

The leader stepped forward, a mouflon wearing the uniform of the army of the Purrsian Shah. It was apparent he was no longer a member of that army as all the patches had been torn off. He bellowed for silence then spoke in Pashto.

Jen saw a shaken lion stand, he was immediately shot down; blood spurting from where he was shot hit a cub next to him. The cub barely cried before he too was shot, his terror silenced. Ahmad lept to his feet and tried to throw himself over a nearby lion cub. One of the Nasiri rifle-butted him in the mouth.

Dorcas cried out and lunged to help. There was the crack of a rifle and her head snapped back. She fell beside Jen, shock frozen on her face, a bullet hole between her eyes. Before Dieter could respond, he and Yuri were shot between their eyes then the cub Ahmad had tried to protect.

The Nasiri began moving through the crowd methodically shooting every carnivore in the head. If they jumped to run, they were shot in the back then shot in the head to ensure they were dead.

Jen froze, she felt like her heart had stopped. She knew she had wet herself. This was what Mado had described as having happened to those in her village in Africa.

It seemed like forever before the gunshots and screaming stopped. Jen slowly opened her eyes; it wasn’t easy with muddy tears caking them shut.

Ahmad, lay on the ground a few feet from her groaning, several of his teeth lying in the dirt. Next to her was Dorcas, a bullet hole between her shocked eyes. Jen spun and vomited. She knew the two larger bodies beyond the red fox were the German grey wolf and Siberian tiger; but she didn’t want to look at them.

Oh, God, she and Aliance and Lana would have to put their bodies in cold storage and HOPE someone responded soon. In the meantime, she was the sole remaining doctor and the team lead.

Someone grabbed her upper arm and hauled her to her feet. It was a dromedary brandishing his rifle in his free hand. He yelled something in Arabic.

Anger flared. “I don’t speak Arabic you screaming asshole. You murdered Doctor Schwartz, who did,” She yelled in Anglican jerking her head at the dead grey wolf.

When the camel slapped her, that didn’t help her panicky anger. She slapped him back, tears pouring down her face. He raised the rifle and pointed it at her face. She closed her eyes and turned away.

There was a shout. Slowly she opened her eyes. The mouflon commander shoved the camel away.

“Excuse Ibram, please,” his Anglican was heavily accented. “He is low born. May I have your name?” His tone was reasonable, conversational amid the murdered at his feet.

Jen straightened herself. “I am Doctor Jeanine Hopps of _Médecins Sans Frontières_. You have murdered half our team, which I might remind you is in violation of the Marseille Articles of War: we are non-combat…”

The commander spoke still calm and reasonable. “They are predators, murderers, eaters of flesh. If you think that in a time of starvation, they would not have turned on you in order to survive, you are deluded. As for the Articles of War, when they were never applied to my family, my village, I realized they were false dictums put in place by predators for the sole purpose of the continued repression of all prey.”

She rubbed the tears from her eyes and sniffled. “Allow me and my nurses to at least properly care for the injured and dead.”

“You will care for my men first.”

“No,” she snapped still more angry than afraid. “We will take patients in order of need. That is our duty, whether they are yours or villagers. If you do not allow us to do our job our way, one of your precious followers might suffer.” She glared at him too upset and angry to realize how dangerous that statement might sound.

He studied her a while. “Should one of my soldiers suffer at your hands, one of you might accidentally be shot.” He let that sink in. He saw her expression of surprise at his interpretation of what she said. “Take care of the wounded as you see fit.” He spun on his hooves and walked away shouting orders.

********

The next 16 or so hours passed in a miasma of terror and trauma. Villagers had been ordered to carry patients to the hospital. It had been a struggle, but she had managed to secure the bodies of Dieter, Yuri, and Dorcas, who were placed in the morgue. The Nasiri wanted to dump them with the bodies of the other murdered carnivores.

Jen was not a surgeon and knew nothing about dentistry. She was trained to diagnose traumatic injury and stabilize a victim for further treatment by the specialists. The past weeks she had been harkening back to her general-practitioner internships, but that wasn’t her field. Now she faced having to do everything Dorcas, Yuri, and Dieter had done. Fortunately, she had Aliance, Lana, and books.

She finally walked out of the surgery into the sunlight and drank it in. When she opened her eyes, the scene did not resemble at all how it had looked on her second morning in the village. She was shocked to see that the repaired mosque had been nearly destroyed; the beautiful glass windows were shattered and the geometric tiling on the wall broken; the doors were ripped off and the interior furnishings smashed in the street.

To the east, smoke rose from several farmsteads; two fields were ablaze, and she could see figures working through other fields in an effort to glean something to eat. It was way too early to harvest. Nothing would be suitably ripe. She pictured a lot of gastrointestinal issues in her near future.

“Dr. Hopps, good morning.” She cringed at the voice of the Nasiri commander.

She turned and faced him trying, and she was sure failing, to look pleasant. Beyond him, Nasiri soldiers were throwing bodies onto a cart and dragging them out of the city to be dumped in a mass grave. She swallowed down the bile that rose. “You know my name, but I do not know yours.” She could feel her jaw clenching and teeth grinding.

He looked suddenly shocked. “Forgive my manners,” his apology was genuine. “Colonel Eskandar Taghavi.” He bowed.

She sighed and forced a smile. “Thank you, Col. Taghavi. How may I help you this morning?”

“My men,” he answered simply.

“Ah, yes.” She led him into the recovery room. “Firuz should be more careful cleaning his weapon. The bullet fortunately missed any tendons and with proper care, his hoof will recover, and he will have full use.” She smiled at a fallow deer with his hand elevated.

“I don’t want to know how Golzar got shot in the ass, but I managed to pull the bullet out. He’ll heal just fine.” She indicated the boar lying face down on a cot.

“Jahan,” she shook her head, “I did what I could; he’s stable for now, but I don’t know for how long. If you can get him to a proper hospital with the proper specialists, he might have a chance of survival.” She stopped at the end of a cot with another fallow deer. One of the villagers, an Ibex mother, had charged him and run her horns into him when he had hit her child knocking the little female to the ground. The mother Ibex was dead; her child was traumatized at seeing her mother murdered. Most likely the perpetrator would not survive the encounter.

She looked the colonel square in the eyes. “You will understand if I do not have a great deal of sympathy for any of your men’s injuries. I swore to do no harm, but that doesn’t mean I have to like my patients, or like you for that matter.” She started to walk away back out into the sunlight. “Now if you will excuse me, I have not eaten or slept in quite a long while.” She started for the shelter she shared with the nurses.

“Dr. Hopps,” his voice stopped her departure. “I can understand your initial antagonism; however, I think as you get to know us, you will come to see the value of what we do here.”

She spun on him. “I see NO value in the murder of innocent, hardworking, mammals… much less cubs. Justify THAT.”

“I once thought like you. I once proudly served as an officer in the Shah’s army. I revered the Shah, the Lion of Purrsia even though he is Shiite, and I am Sunni. I had been in his service many years when I was sent as military attaché to the League of Nations in Geneva. I was there with my wife and two children, a fine son and beautiful daughter. I had to travel to The Hague, much work and many meetings, leaving my family in Amsterdam.” His face went blank and he stared off into the distance. “When I came home, they were gone, all three. Someone had broken into my home and taken them. I reported the incident. Police were called in, they investigated. They found no evidence who had taken them. The next day, what was left of my daughter, my beautiful Fatimah, turned up in the mouth of the Rhone in Lac Léman.” His face contorted. “She had been eaten.”

Jen staggered back in horror. “Eaten? Who? Why?”

“Predators of course. I learned there was a group, they called themselves Thule. They would kid…”

Jen interrupted him. “I know all too well about the Thule and can imagine what they did.”

Taghavi was startled by her visceral reaction. He continued his story, “I demanded of the Shah something be done, that the Dutch government do something. The Shah would do NOTHING!” His face was contorted in disgust. “He did not want to cause an international incident. They never found the bodies of my wife and son.”

Jen saw the hatred, anger, and grief blazing in the mouflon’s dark eyes. “I… I’m sorry for your loss.” She grit her teeth. “But the murder of innocents does not give you license to murder innocents. It makes YOU no better than the Thule!”

“Oh, that was not the end of it.” His voice pitched up some. “When I returned home to Purrsia, I was ordered, ordered I say, to march to my own town and put down a rebellion of the Nasiri. I went as ordered but watched as the predators of my own regiment opened fire upon the unarmed mouflons with whom I had grown up. That is when I left the Shah’s service. That is when I dedicated myself to the Nasiri cause.” His calm façade returned. “So, what do you say to me now, Dr. Hopps? Do you tell me not all predators are vile, murderous, cannibals?”

Jen glared at him. “Back home, I patched together the Thule’s handiwork AND worked on victims of an attack by SHEEP. There are bad mammals on both sides. Dr. Schwartz, Dr. Karpov, and Dr. Robertson were my friends and co-workers and you couldn’t find three kinder, gentler, more altruistic mammals if you searched the rest of your life. I could tell you unequivocally that if Dieter and Yuri were alive now Jahan would recover. They had the skills necessary to save his life.” She looked at the failing patient. “As he dies, and mark my words he is dying, it is a slow and painful death; hopefully I can spare him the pain. You remember that because it was by YOUR order that his saviors are now DEAD.” She marched away.

She had to get away. His story was horrific; he had a right to his anger and hatred. However, that did not justify murder, not to Jen whose sister worked hard to uphold the laws that kept society functioning. Jen had helped Judy study for her criminal justice exams just as Judy had helped Jen study for her pre-med exams when they were both at ZU.

She had been famished when she stepped out of the surgery. She had no appetite now. She collapsed on her cot, exhausted. Aliance was already asleep. Lana had been allowed to leave the surgery early to get some sleep; she now watched the patients. Aliance would relieve her in about four hours. They had agreed that Jen would work only when necessary; as the only doctor, she had to stay sharp and well rested.

********

Jen was lying on a beach soaking up the sun, but a crab was poking her arm. Then a voice from heaven called her name.

“Col Taghavi has wounded coming in,” Aliance said forcefully, penetrating the dream.

Jen was on her feet and headed out the door before it fully registered that she was awake.

The patients from the day the Nasiri arrived had been released; as she predicted, she could not save Jahan. At least there was room for the incoming wounded. 

She was scrubbed and ready when Taghavi brought in four of his men. One was bleeding profusely from a head injury. Another was cradling his blood-covered arm. Another had a gut wound and was carried on a stretcher. The last had the lower half of his astragalus pointing in a direction it was not meant to go. All of them were covered with mud.

“Get vitals on them all but start with him.” Jen pointed at the quiet one with the gut wound. “What happened?” She asked the mouflon colonel.

“They were ordered to secure a farm; my men need to eat. The farmer attacked.”

“What the hell do you expect a landowner to do? Say you’re welcome to pillage whatever you want? So what sort of injuries.”

“Mahmud was hit with a shovel.” He pointed at the broken leg. “Saam and Karim got stabbed with a pitchfork.” He pointed at the arm injury and gut wound. “Naveed got kicked by an ostrich.” He pointed at the head wound.

Jen switched to French. “Lana, get the penicillin; all these wounds are going to be filthy. Aliance see what you can do to clean up Naveed’s head.” She spoke to Taghavi in Anglican. “Colonel, get two men to carry Saam into the surgery; I’ll do what I can to save him, but sepsis is a very real threat and I don’t have a lot in the way of antibiotics.”

“I do not take orders from you, female.” Taghavi pulled himself up to his full height and glowered down at the small rabbit.

“You killed the only two mammals on this team with the strength to carry your men, remember? Their bodies are in the morgue; do you want me to show you and remind you? Now your orders have caused your men their injuries, you can bloody well take responsibility by providing me the mammal-power I need. Two mammals, NOW, to carry Saam to surgery before he bleeds out or dies of infection, whichever you prefer. I need to prep the surgery because there are only THREE (she held up three claws) of us.” She stormed out, tears of frustration and anger rolling down her cheek.

Once in the surgery, she began laying out the instruments she would need. She set up the surgeon’s reference book where she could easily see it; though she had read up on treating gorings and puncture wounds since Jahan, she needed the reference immediately at hand. She then pulled out Yuri’s reference guide for use of the anesthesia – how much for what size animal. That was her biggest fear - more than the surgery, which she had done intern time as – giving a patient too much or too little anesthesia or applying it wrong…

She indicated the two fallow deer, who brought in the dromedary, Saam, to shift him onto the operating table, gently.

Colonel Taghavi ordered them out. “What may I do to help?”

“You could have not murdered our surgeon and anesthesiologist but it’s too late for that.”

His eyes narrowed on her and he opened his mouth to remind her that predators can’t be trusted to empty chamber pots. He snorted like a steam engine then swallowed his anger and frustration. “Tell me what to do.”

“Do you have any medics in your company?” she asked with a sigh.

“No. I must count on your expertise.” Taghavi admitted somewhat awkwardly.

“Okay, then you go in there, put on clean scrubs out of the cupboard, and thoroughly wash your hands and face, then put on a mask and gloves. You will then sit in that chair, and, using that reference guide, make sure Saam is anesthetized; but be careful not to give him too much or you will kill him; too little, and he will scream through the procedure.”

Taghavi was sitting at the head of the operating table reading the reference as Jen cleaned the area around Saam’s wound when Aliance walked in. She was in her scrubs.

“Lana is cleaning and stitching where necessary. We set and cast Mahumd’s leg.”

“Lana knows how to stitch?” Jen asked surprised.

“She does now,” Aliance answered glaring at the colonel. “What have we got?”

“He was stabbed with a filthy pitchfork. It looks like it penetrated his abomasum.” Jen studied the book. “The protocol states we have to clean the ragged edges of the wound and stitch it up from the inside out, so it can heal cleanly.”

“What’s his blood type?” Aliance asked.

“Oh, shit, I don’t know!” Jen shook her head feeling defeated.

“B positive,” Taghavi answered.

Jen’s eyes popped open. She didn’t expect him to know that or that he spoke French.

“I’ll get some out of our stores. We might have to find some donors to give him a transfusion if he survives this,” Aliance went into an adjacent cooler.

“Give him blood?” The colonel was horrified.

“He’s lost a lot and will lose more before I’m done. Do you want him to live or do you want us to walk out and leave him to Allah; who I might point out gave us the ability to save his life.” Jen leaned on the edge of the operating table.

Saam moaned and mumbled something.

“What did he say?” she asked.

“He wants his mother. Give him the blood but allow me to say a blessing first.” The colonel moved to stand beside Saam.

Jen gestured he go ahead and stepped back to a respectful distance.

If Dieter had been doing the surgery, he would have done it within a couple of hours. As it was, it took Jen about five hours to make sure she did it correctly. Fortunately, Aliance had been a surgical nurse for longer than Jen had been alive. She proved to be a great source of advice.

Finally, Jen stepped off the stand that allowed her to work at the operating table; blood covered her front and up to her elbows. She indicated Taghavi shut off the anesthesia and glanced at the monitors.

She pulled her mask off. “We’ve done all we can for him here. He’s in Allah’s hands now.” She went into the ante-room to clean up.

Taghavi followed her. “You impress me, small one.”

Jen pulled the head covering off her ears and scratched them. “Tell your men not to antagonize farmers. You have the village, you have what you want. Why don’t you just leave?” She was on the verge of crying.

Taghavi climbed out of his scrubs and stood before her in his well-worn uniform. “You know I can’t do that. If I leave, the filthy lions will return. This village and the surrounding farms are now under the protection of the Nasiri Caliphate. It is my job to hold it until my battalion arrives.”

Jen snorted. “Get someone to take Saam back to recovery. Aliance, give Saam 10 ccs of penicillin.”

“You know we don’t have much. Yuri was supposed to pick it up on the next supply run.” Aliance’s voice cracked as she said the name of their now deceased collegue.

Jen nodded. “I realize that all too well; but we can’t ignore the reality that any one of these four could develop an infection from farm shit.”

She dragged herself to the showers and washed the day off. When she stepped out, she still felt soiled, but that wasn’t dirt. She returned to the sleeping quarters and sat on the side of her cot. An alarm went off on her phone, the satellite would be able to transmit for about 56 minutes.

She took a selfie then sent it to the entire family. The text she sent said, “All hell broke loose but I’m alive.” She then stretched out on her cot and was almost instantly asleep.


	7. Doing No Harm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jen, Aliance, and Lana shift into a workable routine but they find they are running low on critical medications. Jen establishes a tenuous working relationship with Col. Taghavi and there is a glimmer of hope of rescue. Things seem to be going smoothly when Jen has to avert a calamity that could get the three killed.

“Sergeant Hopps,” Chief Bogo’s voice stopped Judy as she was headed into the bullpen. “My office, now.”

“This is serious, he had his glasses on,” Nick whispered glancing up at the cape buffalo.

Judy had noted the chief’s demeanor; something was up. “Yes, sir.” She changed direction to take the stairs to the mezzanine while Nick continued into the bullpen.

As Judy approached the chief, he looked at her his eyes filled with concern. “Whatever is asked of you, you have my permission to carry it out. Go on in.” He opened the door to reveal two mammals, a kitsune in the uniform of the LoN-F and a reindeer in a suit. The door closed behind her.

The fox spoke immediately as the reindeer indicated Judy sit. “Sgt. Hopps, I am Lieutenant Michi Hanimoto with the League of Nations Forces’ this is Dr. Edvard Vangsness of _Médecins Sans Frontières_.”

“Is my sister all right?” Judy asked without preamble.

“Very astute; we don’t know,” Vangsness replied.

“Yesterday evening, 6th Army headquarters in Kabul received word that the Nasiri Caliphate had seized the village of Togruk, where your sister, Dr. Jeanine B. Hopps, is located. That is all we know at this time.”

Judy’s phone buzzed. Her heart went to her throat and she reached for the phone. “It’s from Jen.” She sighed and visibly relaxed.

The two mammals looked at one another. “Does she say anything?” the lieutenant asked.

“All hell broke loose but I’m alive.” Judy showed them the attached picture. “She looks exhausted.”

“Please ask if there are any fatalities,” Vangsness asked with trepidation.

“Do my parents know?” Judy asked as she sent the text.

“We are hoping you will accompany us to inform them,” Hanimoto explained.

********

Jen saw the text message from her sister when she picked up her phone. Her heart sank; she didn’t want to be the one that would ultimately inform families of the deaths of their loved ones. It somehow made it feel like her fault. She took a deep breath and texted news of the death of Dieter, Yuri, and Dorcas.

She quietly dressed and stepped outside so as not to wake Lana. All was quiet; the birds were singing, the breeze drifted down the street carrying the sweet smell of spices growing upwind. There was even the laughter of a couple of foals playing soccer in the street. She closed her eyes and took the moment to pretend nothing was amiss.

“Good morning, Dr. Hopps.”

She sighed. “Good morning, Col. Taghavi,” she responded politely. She really didn’t want to deal with him.

“I have been visiting my men. I must commend you and your nurses for saving their lives.”

“I swore an oath to treat anyone and everyone and to do no harm.” She bit out the words. “As did every-single-member-of-this-team, alive and most recently murdered.” She strode off her pleasant mood ruined. She wasn’t hungry but knew she had to eat something. Her ears told her the colonel was headed back to the recovery room.

“Morning, Jen,” Aliance greeted cradling a cup of coffee.

“How are our patients?” Jen asked pouring herself a cup.

“Naveed and Karim can possibly be released. Mahmud needs crutches and we don’t have any. Saam has been sleeping quietly. Lana made some saffron scones.” Aliance indicated a plate on the counter.

Jen smiled appreciatively. “How are our supplies?”

Aliance stared at her coffee and scone. “I have to admit I haven’t looked other than the penicillin. We do need to be careful with that.”

“We give 10 cc’s once then ONLY if there is the development of a fever.” Jen groaned sitting opposite Aliance. “I’ll talk to Col. Taghavi about medical supplies. However, I doubt he’s going to let one of us drive to Herat for more.”

“Tell him to stop getting people injured; we should be just fine then.” Aliance’s suggestion was acerbic.

Jen snorted a sarcastic laugh. “That’s not going to happen; he seems to relish causing mayhem and murder.”

“What is his problem anyway?” Aliance asked.

Jen related what the colonel had said about losing his family to the carnivore hate group, Thule Society, and the attack on his village by the Shah’s army.

“That is sad.” Aliance shook her head. “I feel sorry for his losses, but murder does not justify murder.”

“No, it doesn’t.” Once she started eating, Jen realized how hungry she was. She hadn’t eaten a substantial meal since the Nasiri arrived. She knew she had to be more mindful of her health. She finished and washed her plate and cup. “I’ll check our patients.”

“I’m going to inventory our supplies. I’ll see if we have anything to use as crutches.” Aliance dropped her plate in the sink and took her cup with her to the storage building.

When Jen arrived at the ward, she found Taghavi sitting by Saam’s cot reading to the sleeping figure. Jen didn’t understand what he was reading but recognized that he held the _Koran_.

She softly moved to the first bed and checked Karim’s vitals then made a note on his chart, ‘to be released’. She did the same for Naveed. Next was Mahmud, she checked his vitals and made a note that if crutches were available, he could be released; she then waited quietly until Taghavi finished.

“I don’t think he heard me,” he said worried.

“He’s asleep, the words registered, and I’m sure he drew comfort from them. We have a small issue, small,” she repeated when she saw him frown. “Mahmud can be released but we don’t have any crutches and he MUST be on crutches until his leg heals. Do you have anything in your supplies that he can use?”

Mahmud asked a question and the colonel answered. Mahmud said something else. That seemed to cheer Taghavi. “Mahmud reminded me that we have a carpenter in the company who might be able to make crutches. I shall bring him. You will tell him what he needs to know.”

Jen nodded her agreement then switched places with the colonel to check Saam’s vitals. “By the way,” she called before Taghavi was out the door. “His vitals are normal; he’s resting comfortably; and his color is good.”

“Allah be praised,” the colonel said with a sigh then translated the news for the other three. There were murmurs of “ _Allahu Akbar_.” The colonel left.

Jen sat down at the desk to make notes in the medical diary. If she had met Taghavi under any other circumstances, she believed they could have been friends. As it was, she tolerated him because she had no choice.

About mid-morning, Taghavi brought in another mouflon, who was the carpenter. Jen explained how long the crutches should be and where the hand-holds should go. She and Taghavi helped Mahmud stand so the carpenter could take the measurements. He and Taghavi then left.

Shortly before her lunch break, Aliance came in and delivered the inventory. Jen reviewed the list and groaned. First, they would have to conserve the generator fuel: no more hot showers. Second, food staples might last longer if they were able to continue to get items from the farmers. Lastly, if nothing else happened beyond scrapes and colds, they had the medication and materials necessary to get by for two weeks. She didn’t expect that to be the case, especially since her keen hearing picked up what sounded like a mosquito. There were no mosquitoes in Togruk.

She stood and went outside; Aliance followed her. The sound remained directly overhead. She looked around and noticed none of the Nasiri or remaining villagers seemed to be aware of the noise. She glanced up and ascertained, whatever it was, it was using the high-noon sun to its advantage.

“What is it?” Aliance asked in a soft voice. Her ears were twitching. She held the inventory list and pretended to be reviewing it with Jen.

Jen shook her head. “A drone?” She randomly pointed at the list.

“It’s moving.” Aliance noted and nodded.

“Let’s get something to eat.” Jen headed for the kitchen. She secured the door behind her.

“Do you think they heard it?” Aliance asked in a rush.

“There are no lagomorphs in his company and I don’t think any of his mammals have our hearing.” Jen poured herself a glass of water. “They seemed totally unawares.”

“What was it doing?”

“I’m hoping it was taking pictures.” She smiled. “It seems Mado didn’t forget us.”

“I never thought she would,” Aliance assured with a sly smile. She took on a serious expression. “We must keep this to ourselves. It could be a Nasiri drone, but if it isn’t; someone is looking for us.”

“We gave it a real good picture.” Jen smiled and started making herself a bean-sprout sandwich.

“Glad to see your appetite is back.” Aliance indicated the sandwich.

Jen chuckled and took a hearty bite out of the sandwich. “Let’s make our patients something to eat,” she said when she finished her sandwich.

As the two were carrying a tray with food for their patients, a half-asleep Lana stumbled out of the dorm.

“Eat and go back to bed, Lana,” Aliance ordered. “I’ll wake you at three to take the evening shift.”

The red squirrel mumbled something and continued groggily toward the toilets.

Jen double-checked everyone’s vitals as Aliance propped them up to eat. The two at least could understand ‘thank you’ and to respond with ‘you’re welcome’ in Pashto.

Jen was entering details into the medical diary when Saam started to stir. She and Aliance were there immediately to keep him calm; they didn’t want him pulling out his IV or tearing his sutures.

“Go get the colonel,” Jen ordered and stayed by her patient’s side.

About 10 minutes later, Taghavi ran into the ward. He spoke immediately to Saam who groggily nodded and relaxed back against the pillow.

“I told him he is safe and to stay still,” Taghavi told Jen. “You’re smiling. I think I have not yet seen you smile.”

“He’s going to pull through,” Jen stated with finality. “Despite my hatchet job at surgery, he’s going to pull through.” She sighed pleased with herself.

“It was not a hat-chet job; you did very well,” he told her.

“Thank you. Any word on the crutches?”

“Mohammad is working on them right now. He is getting much help.” Taghavi smiled at something.

Jen figured Mohammad was getting more help than he wanted. “As soon as he brings them, we’ll release Mahmud. Those two can go as soon as they finish eating.” Jen pointed to Naveed and Karim.

“May I tell them?”

“Yes,” Jen nodded. “You are staying a while longer,” she said to Saam even though she knew he didn’t understand. Taghavi translated and the young dromedary smiled weakly, murmured ‘thank you’, and closed his eyes.

After Aliance retired to sleep, Mohammad showed up with a pair of rustic but functional crutches. Jen kept the carpenter and Colonel Taghavi around to act as spotters for Mahmud’s first steps on them. There was no physical therapist, so it was up to Jen to ensure the crutches were comfortable. After a small amount of modification, Mahmud toddled off with the carpenter and his commander to rejoin his buddies.

Jen sighed and returned to the ward. She checked Saam, who was trying to doze off again but kept grimacing and moaning. “Lana, he needs 5 CCs of morphine.”

Lana got up to get the pain medication from storage while Jen sat down to update the medical diary.

Jen glanced up as Lana measured the drug into a syringe before adding it to the IV.

“Stop!” Jen jumped up grabbing Lana’s hand away from the IV drip. “What are you doing?”

“Giving him the morphine like you said,” Lana answered exasperated.

“That’s not morphine,” Jen grabbed the small bottle and held it in Lana’s face. “That’s formaldehyde.” She saw a flicker of something that was not concern, in Lana’s eyes. She then saw disgust in the squirrel’s expression. She pulled Lana away from the patient and into the surgery. “You were going to kill him.” She hissed.

“No, I… I…”

“Don’t lie to me!” Jen growled.

“He’s a murderer,” Lana countered hotly, tears in her eyes. “While you’re playing nice-nice with the commander…”

“Is that what you think I’m doing? I’m trying not to give him a reason to kill all of us. Besides, we are here to help people regardless of who they are.”

“You took the Hippocratic oath; you’re the doctor, not me.”

“You did swear to do no harm. Do you think murdering a recovering, helpless patient makes you more moral than them? No, it doesn’t!” Jen took a deep breath. “We are going to pretend you did this because you’re tired and overworked.” Jen composed herself before going back into the ward. She scooped up the bottle and the syringe and walked out.

When she came back with the correct medicine, Lana was sitting at the desk staring at her paws. Jen measured out the morphine and injected it into the IV drip. She watched as the morphine took effect and Saam calmed. She sighed; disaster averted.

She sat down across from Lana. “We will not mention this again; and it will not happen again.”

“Dorcas was my friend; we worked together 10 years.” Lana stared at her paws, tears streaming down her cheek.

“And I considered her, Dieter, and Yuri my friends; not to mention respected co-workers. I don’t like this situation any more than you do. I don’t like the Nasiri any more than you do. However, we three are all the remaining villagers have, and it was to help them that we volunteered to come here. If we decide to play activists and get killed, what happens to them? If you get yourself killed, what do I do for dental care? If we refuse to treat the colonel’s men, what happens to us?”

Lana wrung her tiny paws as tears poured down her cheeks. Jen moved to hold her. Lana leaned into Jen’s shoulder and cried. Jen was the youngest member of the team; she wondered how she had become the mother figure.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The switching formaldehyde for morphine was something I found in a news bulletin. A nurse accidentally gave a patient formaldehyde instead of morphing, killing the patient.


	8. Return of the Efrafans

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As if things couldn't get worse, Efrafans return with tribes of avenging lions and onagers. The little village of Togruk is now under siege and the center of a war.

Judy clutched Dickie Davis’ paw. Dickie was hosting bad-movie night. He had a theater with a full-sized cinematic screen and commercial-grade, digital movie projector. The theater floor angled up away from the screen but instead of theater seats, there were couches and chairs and tables sized for different mammals, larger toward the back.

Right now, the huge, hi-def screen in front of them was streaming the 6 O’Clock World News. The snow leopard anchor, Fabian Growley, sat before a picture of the small village, Togruk, taken when the MASH compound was being set up by the Lon-F.

“The League of Nations is in the process of obtaining permission from the Afghan parliament to launch a military action to retake the village. The Nasiri Caliphate has claimed responsibility for the attack. Currently, we do not have further details about rescuing the Doctors without Borders medical team.

“We do know that there have been casualties. The names are being withheld pending notification of their families.” The picture behind her changed to show a rabbit in a white coat kneeling beside a victim; the Alhambra façade of the Mystic Springs Oasis rose behind her. The rabbit in the photo was holding a wound shut while shouting orders.

Judy gasped and shuddered; she forgot her sister had been the one to call the Oasis catastrophe in and treat her for shock then stay on to triage the victims. Her memory of that day was horrific; images pushed into her mind and emotions began to swell. Judy took a breath and let the intrusive memory wash over, around, and through her. She owned it; she accepted it; it was hers. The memory slipped away like a receding wave.

Peter Moosebridge was talking. “We have learned that Zootopia’s own, Dr. Jeanine B. Hopps, who distinguished herself during the Thule Mystic Springs Oasis terrorist attack, is a member of the Doctors Without Borders medical team sent to Togruk in response to a natural disaster. We also know from her family that Dr. Hopps managed to inform them that she is alive.” He went on to describe the isolated farming village and the natural disaster that required the doctors be sent.

“How is your family holding up?” Dickie asked squeezing Judy’s paw.

Judy nodded. “Mom and Dad are scared, but her text was encouraging. Why does it take so long?”

“You know what it’s like just trying to get permission for a city cross-jurisdictional action. It’s a-thousand times worse for international cross-jurisdictions. It took my mom months to get permission from the Mongolian government for her archeological dig; and that’s as benign an activity as you can get. This is a military action; mammals on both sides will be killed.”

“Jacob?” Judy turned to the black hare slouched in an overstuffed chair.

“The Nasiri won’t hurt herbivores as long as they don’t give them a cause.” He explained.

“I think she wanted to know what the LoN-F will do?” Nick asked.

Jacob shrugged. “Looking at those photos of the area, the most sense would be an aerial drop.”

“You’re distracted. What’s Valerie up to?” Nick’s fiancée, Zib, asked.

“She was in Bonnyborough talking to Mom and Dad today; she’s probably on her way back,” Judy answered.

“So, what’s eating at you?” Dickie asked Jacob.

“Where are the Efrafans?” Jacob asked gesturing at the screen.

“What?” everyone asked in unison. It seemed a very _non-sequitur_ question.

Jacob sat up and looked at the others. “There were Efrafans in that village; they went there to help the lions. Where are they? They would not allow this attack on the Purrsian lions to go unavenged.”

“My guess is they are the reason we know anything about what’s going on there,” Dickie suggested.

“They will go back; when they do, there will be hell to pay for the Nasiri,” Jacob answered somewhat sullenly.

“Efrafans are hares; why would they fight the Nasiri?” Nick was playing devil’s advocate to get Jacob to clarify his statement. “Besides, didn’t the Efrafans rise up against the lions who oppressed them?”

Jacob shot the red fox a wry glance. “That doesn’t mean we don’t respect them; and it was King Darius’ bad behavior, not because he was a lion, that we revolted against him. Efrafans defend the helpless against aggressors. If the Nasiri attacked a military target, the civilian Efrafans wouldn’t get involved. You are talking about a remote village of farmers and craft mammals that apparently Efrafans did business with. They will NOT let this attack on a peaceful village stand. When they return, they will return with bloody revenge in mind.”

Judy gasped. Dickie scratched her at the base of her ear. He could feel the tension release from her shoulders.

“They will not target non-combatants without cause,” Jacob explained. “But those people were traumatized by the murderous arrival of the Nasiri. When the Efrafans come back, it won’t be a peaceful resolution. They will give the Nasiri one opportunity to leave, just one; but the Nasiri won’t take it. The Efrafans will then remove them with extreme prejudice. There could be collateral casualties.”

Zib groaned. “This is supposed to be bad-movie night. Could we get away from the bad-vibes night?”

Dickie hopped up ready to change the mood and struck a theatrical pose. “Prepare to be amazed! _Rocky Horror Picture Show_!” When everyone hooted their approval, he smiled at Judy. She returned his smile with her own; she needed to get out of her funk and he knew just how to do that. There was an advantage to dating one of Zootopia’s richest bucks.

********

Jen sat up, her acute hearing could detect a rumbling noise. She glanced at her phone and noticed she’d only been asleep an hour. She put her feet down and could feel tremors running through the ground as well. She threw a robe around her and stepped out into the starry night.

It was quiet outside except for the tremors she could feel and the rumble she heard. She wondered if it were an earthquake; that unnerved her because they didn’t have the supplies to deal with mass casualties from a natural disaster.

She looked up the street toward the center of the village. A lone figure stood in the middle of the road looking east. She recognized Taghavi’s silhouette.

A motor bike roared up to him and the boar driver spoke with him. The driver then pointed at Jen.

Taghavi turned and looked straight at her. He said something to the driver then turned back to Jen. “Get inside and stay there,” he shouted urgently. “Do not come out for any reason.”

“What’s happening?” she asked. He wouldn’t act this way for an earthquake. She didn’t think he would behave this way if his Nasiri battalion were arriving; they were supposed to have been here two days ago. Could it possibly be someone coming to rescue them?

“I said get inside. The infidels are coming.” Taghavi started in her direction.

“Who?”

“Efrafan infidels. Get inside!”

Jen backed up in shock. What she was hearing, and feeling was not an earthquake, it was the foot beats of hundreds of ostriches. She hurried back inside the dorm; Lana, who had come out of the ward, followed her.

“What’s happening? I heard the colonel yelling.” She spoke in a hush even though it was time for Aliance to get up for her shift.

“I’m awake,” Aliance grumbled sitting up.

“Someone is coming,” Jen explained.

“The colonel,” Lana said with exasperation.

“No,” Aliance’s ears were up and alert.

“Do you feel that?” Jen asked the squirrel.

“Feel what?” Lana asked.

“Tremors,” Aliance said.

“An earthquake?” Lana backed toward the door.

“No,” both Jen and Aliance answered.

“Taghavi said the Efrafans are coming,” Jen explained.

“Oh, heaven help us.” Aliance put her paws over her muzzle. That didn’t hide her smile.

“WHAT!” Lana demanded.

There was a polite knock at the door, but Taghavi didn’t wait for an invitation. He walked in. “You will all remain confined to this compound. No going outside unless necessary.”

“You’re afraid!” Jen noted with relish.

“I have fought with Efrafans. They are not to be trifled with. They make up the Shah’s shock force almost in its entirety. They thrive on carnage as no other creature of Allah’s earth. Now stay inside.” He shut the door. They could hear him shouting orders.

“I hear it too,” Lana’s eyes opened wide. “That must be a lot of ostriches.”

“I think it wise we do as the psychotic colonel suggests, we stay inside except to go from building to building and we keep that at a minimum,” Aliance suggested firmly.

“Dr. Hopps makes the decisions,” Lana reminded the older nurse.

“I concur with Nurse Moultrand.”

Aliance stood and locked the door before starting to change for her shift to watch Saam.

“Why’d you lock the door?” Lana asked changing into her pajamas.

Aliance paused with a paw on her hip. “Barging in the door.” She nodded at the door.

“Oh, yes.” Lana looked at the door nervously before finishing her change.

“Is everyone decent?” Aliance asked before opening the door. “Lock it after me.” She took off running to minimize her time in the open.

Jen locked the door and felt suddenly safer.

Lana fell asleep quickly.

Jen tucked her hands behind her head and stared at the ceiling. She could hear and feel the frantic activity of the Nasiri. Someone was coming to save them. The door was secured, and she and Lana were safe. Locking the dorm door had never crossed her mind until Taghavi had unceremoniously walked in without invitation. She sighed, fixed an image of Abhaysimha in her head, and fell asleep.

“Jen, Jen you have got to see this,” Lana woke her.

Jen sat up and rubbed her eyes. “See what?”

“Get dressed. You have GOT to see this.” Lana was urgent but apparently happy.

Jen pulled on a set of clean scrubs and followed Lana out the door. Taghavi had told them to stay inside but their excuse was the showers and mess tent and medical buildings weren’t attached to the dorm.

She immediately saw a line of armed Nasiri dug in along the nearby hill, which had slumped from the mudslide.

“Up here, up here,” Lana was climbing onto the roof of the dorm.

Jen followed. Her eyes popped once she could see out over the remaining wall that surrounded the village. About 100 yards out the dirt had been piled up intermittently with sharpened sticks stuck into the ground and random holes in the gaps between the dirt mounds; this construction was all around the village. There was a similar line about 50 yards behind the first and offset to fill the gaps.

There was a noise not unlike the roar of a lion from the northern nearest redoubt. That was answered from each successive fortification. Those were followed by thumps that she could hear but apparently Lana could not.

“Your boyfriend’s back and they’re gonna be in trouble, Hey-la-day-la, your boyfriend’s back,” Lana began singing and dancing.

“Hush, hush, hush. The colonel’s gonna go apoplectic if he sees us.” Jen hustled the squirrel off the roof and into the kitchen.

Lana couldn’t stop giggling and took up singing the old song her mother had loved. “You see him comin' better cut out on the double. Hey-la-day-la, your boyfriend's back.”

Jen brewed the coffee and got out the last of the scones Lana had made. “Here, eat this and shut up before Col. Himself hears you.” She then set out a scone and cup for Aliance.

When Lana had sung herself out and eaten, Jen sent her to relieve Aliance. Soon after the elder hare arrived.

“Lana is in a good mood. I could hear them digging all night. I suppose she saw the Efrafan handiwork?”

“Yep,” Jen answered. “They’ve surrounded the village with fortifications, and Taghavi has soldiers up on the walls and hill. We are now in a fucking war zone.”

Aliance studied Jen’s expression. “As I said before. I know OF the Efrafans, but I don’t know much ABOUT the Efrafans. I don’t know what to tell you to expect.”

Both their phones beeped indicating the satellite was in optimum position.

“Efrafans have arrived. Village surrounded.” Jen hit send to her family. That would update them and assure them she was alive.

She figured Aliance was sending a similar text to her family.

As Aliance slept, Jen and Lana spent the day in the ward. Jen took care of their one patient. She didn’t want to give Lana an opportunity to act out her anger and so endanger the three remaining medics.

Her sharp ears heard almost every order Taghavi shouted to his men. Even though she didn’t understand him, she could hear fear in his voice. That surprised her; she didn’t think he was afraid of anything. She then remembered that before she fell asleep last night, she had heard a group of his men hurry out of the village through the west gate. She hadn’t heard anyone come back. The shit was hitting the fan.

At one point she heard Taghavi near the ward and stuck her head out. “Colonel, Saam is asking for you.” She could see he was angry, but his expression suddenly softened.

He nodded and came into the ward. He sat down beside Saam’s bed and spoke with the young man. Saam was probably not out of his teens.

“He wants to know when he can rejoin the fight.” Taghavi translated; his tone indicated he knew it would be some time yet before Saam could fight.

Jen looked at the stitches. “Not until these can be removed.” She used her firm, clinical voice. “Right now, he could tear his gut open just walking to the bathroom.”

Taghavi informed Saam. Saam looked crestfallen but nodded his understanding.

“If he tried to stand now, he’d fall over in a feint,” Jen explained kindly.

“I can see that,” Taghavi admitted. He stood, said a prayer over the young Nasiri, then headed for the door. He stopped with his manual hoof on the handle. “Whatever happens, you will protect him, keep him safe.” There was a finality to his voice that shook Jen. “He is like a son to me.”

“That is what I vowed when I became a doctor. You have my word; as long as he is in my care,” she glanced at Lana, “he will come to no harm.” Lana nodded sadly.

“Thank you,” Taghavi left shouting orders.

“Wow, he’s scared,” Lana noted with awe. She started when the air around the village exploded in roars, hundreds of lions roaring angrily over and over. The roars nearly drowned out the hundreds of braying onagers.

“Retribution has arrived,” Jen said looking at the ceiling. She heard Saam speak. She sat beside his bed and hushed. “You’re safe with me. I will protect anyone who is in my care.” She knew he didn’t understand her, but she focused on her tone being calm and reassuring.

The fear in the dromedary’s eyes subsided and he smiled at her. “ _Thank you, mother_ ,” he said softly in Pashto and relaxed.

She understood those words. She covered her ears; the cacophony to her was almost painful. Poor Aliance would not be able sleep through that. “Lana, see if there are any earplugs in storage; if there are, get three sets, put one by each bed in the dorm.”

“Okay,” Lana got up and with some trepidation left the ward.


	9. Owsla-fa Jahangir

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pronk Oryx-Antlerson explains the danger Efrafans pose to Jen's parents. Meanwhile in Afghanistan, the Efrafan commander, their owsla-fa, offers to let the Nasiri leave peacefully. When Col. Taghavi refuses, the psychological and physical war begins. In the shadow of a warzone, the doctor and two nurses set about doing what they were trained to do, alleviate suffering and save lives

Judy woke in the night, her phone buzzing. She rubbed her eyes and looked at the text. “Oh, dear God,” she murmured.

She collapsed back on her bed and groaned. She wrestled with telling Jen what Jacob had said about the Efrafans returning with ‘bloody revenge in mind.’

She reflexively hit accept when her phone rang.

“Judy, did you get Jen’s text? What does she mean?” Her mother’s voice and expression were frantic.

“It means exactly what she says. The Efrafans have surrounded the village. According to Officer Raibert, they will avenge anyone the Nasiri killed,” Judy had vowed long ago not to soften news to her parents about her work. She was extending that to Jen. “He said the Efrafans won’t hurt non-combatants without cause.”

“What are Efrafans?” Stu asked leaning over his wife’s shoulder.

“Oh, shit,” that came through the wall from her neighbors. “Oh, Judy, we’re so sorry.”

“Thanks, Pronk,” she tried to smile. “You guys go back…”

“No, Judy, I can tell your parents about Efrafans.” She heard the oryx get up.

“No, Pronk, let it be. You’ll just scare them more.” That was Bucky. “And you’ll have nightmares.”

“Who are you talking to honey?” Bonnie asked.

“My neighbor Pronk, I think he can tell you about Efrafans.” She got up and opened the door at the knock.

The two normally loud couple stood in her doorway. Pronk held out his hoof.

“Mrs. Hopps, I’m Pronk Oryx-Antlerson, Judy’s neighbor. The Efrafans, they are warriors, fierce fighters. They conquered all of ancient Purrsia under Alexander the Great and still live throughout that area. Most mid-eastern countries actually have Efrafan units in their armies. Their specialty is psychological warfare.”

“Is my Hun-bun safe?” the frantic father asked.

Pronk paused. “Maybe, as long as she is non-threatening.”

“Pronk, that ain’t helping!” Bucky growled.

“No, Bucky, it’s all right. They need to know.” Judy placated Pronk’s husband. She nodded to Pronk to continue.

“H-how do you know this?” Stu asked.

Pronk took a deep breath and glanced at Bucky. Bucky nodded in resignation. “When I was in college studying sociology, I did a year abroad at the University in Bagdad; I was studying the difference between Sunni and Shiite Muslims. While I was there, I spent two weeks in the Caucuses with a tribe of Shiite Efrafans. During that time, Sunni Nasiri, they were more disparate then than they seem to be now as a caliphate; they attacked a village of Shiite jackals with whom the Efrafans traded. The Nasiri are to prey what the Thule are to predators. The Efrafans launched a retaliatory attack against the Nasiri tribe. It was horrible.” Pronk tried to shake the memory out of his head. “It was awful. The Nasiri had killed nearly everyone in the jackal village. The Efrafans believe in an eye for an eye and they took it that day; they spared only the old, infirmed, and children, as long as they appeared to be of no danger or threat.”

Bucky hugged Pronk. He lived with his husband’s memories.

“Oh Pronk, I am so-o sorry,” Judy hugged him too.

Pronk regrouped. “Those Efrafans will do all in their power to see that non-combatants aren’t injured, but the Efrafans will NOT hold back. They will retake that village and it will be bloody. If your daughter survives the counterattack, I don’t know if she will be right in the head.” He paused as he wrestled with his memories. “I’m sorry I can’t be encouraging.” He handed the phone back to Judy.

“Mom? Dad?” Judy listened to the panicked breathing on the other end of the phone. “Talk to me!” she ordered.

“What did we send our baby into?” Stu asked.

“You didn’t send her; she CHOSE to go,” Judy asserted.

********

“Heh, Jen, Aliance,” Lana woke the two. It was time for Aliance to relieve Lana anyway.

“What is it?” Aliance asked as Jen woke more slowly.

“There is something you need to see.” Lana was not happy this time; she was obviously shaken.

The two dressed and again followed her onto the roof of the dorm. Jen’s legs gave out and she dropped to sit. Aliance sank to her knees and cried.

In front of the fortifications were stakes with heads of dromedaries, mouflons, fallow deer, and boar impaled on them. There were about 30.

As they tried to recover from the horror of what they saw, a figure rode out from among the fortifications on an ostrich. He was carrying a white flag. He was a pale brown hare dressed all in green, even his turban. His mount had matching green ostrich-leather chest and head protectors. He set the white flag and called in Pashto then waited.

“Who’s that?” Lana asked. No one could answer her.

They watched as Taghavi climbed up onto the wall also carrying a white flag. He yelled back in Pashto identifying himself.

“Leave now, you are not welcome here.” They knew enough Pashto that they could understand what the hare was saying. “These are not your lands. You will be given safe … this once.” They couldn’t understand one word.

“My guess is he’s going to let them leave,” Jen suggested filling the hole by context. She didn’t have hope that Taghavi would accept the peaceful resolution.

They still held their breaths for Taghavi’s response. The colonel broke the pole holding his white flag in half and flung the pieces to the ground outside the wall while shouting something. He spun and left the battlement.

“Then you will die,” the hare on the ostrich yelled to the Nasiri defenders. He spun the flag he held and drove it head first into the ground, wheeled his ostrich, and cantered back to his lines amid a cacophony of brays, shouts, and roars.

“And so, the war begins,” Jen rolled onto her side and stared at the distant farmlands.

Aliance gathered herself and pulled Jen to her feet. “We still have a patient to care for. Lana, get some sleep.”

“I can’t sleep after that!” The squirrel gestured at the fortifications in general. “I’ll have nightmares,” she added morosely.

They all climbed off the roof and went into the ward.

“He looks so scared,” Lana said as if noticing the commonality between her and Saam for the first time.

“He’s not as old as my youngest son,” Aliance said and sat beside him. She began singing a French lullaby while stroking his brow.

Lana let out a squeaky cry at the sound of gun fire and covered her ears. Aliance gently held Saam down. Jen stared at the room as stray shots pinged off the upper wall of the metal structure.

What should they do? She didn’t dare go out to the storage room to gather supplies. She didn’t dare go to the kitchen to get them something to eat. The buildings had no windows to look out so all she could do was sit inside and imagine what was happening. Wounded, mammals were being wounded and killed and they didn’t have enough supplies. She dropped her head in her hands and cried.

This wasn’t how this was supposed to happen. They were supposed to come to a peaceful, little, farm village and keep everyone healthy until the Afghan government could pull the resources together to build and staff a new clinic. This wasn’t supposed be a war zone. She shuddered.

Four months ago, she was headed home after being called in to Beth Hamel Hospital in the Meadowlands to prepare for mass casualties; the local Thule Society terrorist cell had simultaneously attacked four different locations in Zootopia. Civilian casualties seemed to be minimal, until they learned what had happened at the naturalist club, Mystic Springs Oasis. The exits sealed, dropped gas bombs and nighthowler canisters, and the members of the spa left to kill themselves in a panic to escape. Was that as bad as this was going to get?

She had been passing the Spa, when she stepped in vomit from an earlier street party at the front entrance; she was cleaning off her foot and heard a weak cry for help. She called Judy to tell her injured mammals were trapped and dying; she then called the hospitals to ensure they didn’t stand down from mass casualty preparedness. Judy and Nick arrived; Judy went into the atrium first. When Nick carried her out, she became Jen’s first on-sight patient for shock. Jen then set up a triage and directed handling of the extricated victims after the EMTs arrived.

She shuddered remembering the wounded and trampled bodies pulled out of the spa.

This would be death by bullets (there was a massive explosion) and bombs.

Saam tried to sit up crying out. Aliance threw herself across him to keep him from pulling his stitches and disconnecting his IVs.

Jen looked up from where she cowered with her sensitive ears covered. She felt every muscle in her body locked. She saw Lana sobbing on the floor and forced herself to move to the small mammal’s side. She wrapped herself around the tiny creature. They both found comfort in that.

All she could think was that if Yuri were here, he would start singing something in Russian. He always did that when he felt stressed. During the surgery to amputate the little lion cub’s arm, they heard the entire first act of “Prince Igor”, well at least the part of the _basso profundo_. Frith, she missed that voice.

She was crying.

Jen had never been religious, much to her parent’s dismay. These days she found herself pleading to Frith, God, The Horned god, Allah, Buddha, anyone listening, for deliverance from this Hell.

She remembered the words to one Christian hymn from her childhood, Amazing Grace; she tried to sing it. Her voice was not great, she was terrified, but for some reason it helped. Lana slowly began to join in, then Aliance. Jen’s mind seemed to settle and focus. She pulled herself to her feet and helped Lana stand.

“We have a patient; and others will be arriving as soon as they can safely move them.” She spoke loudly and as strongly as she could. She rubbed the sleeve of her scrubs across her watering eyes. “We need to be prepared. I’m going to prep surgery. Lana, you make sure they bring the wounded into triage, not in here, and you will triage them. Aliance, secure Saam then join me.” She guided Lana through the climate-controlled hall that led to surgery using the wall for extra support. She squeezed Lana’s shoulder before the red squirrel headed into the triage area.

The shooting seemed to go on and on for hours.

When the wounded started arriving, villagers were carrying them. Some of the wounds were flesh wounds from bullets or flying chips of rock and masonry. Lana used a probe to extract the shrapnel and then bound the wounds. She had the presence of mind to keep at least two villagers handy to transport those going into and coming out of surgery.

Jen and Aliance did what they could to stabilize the more seriously wounded.

“We have enough anesthesia for two more,” Aliance informed Jen as she closed off the limb after amputating the mangled hoof of a fallow deer. “And there is no more penicillin.”

Jen took a deep breath; she had to calm herself. “Okay, not much we can do about the antibiotic. Grab a couple of strong arms and bring the ice maker from the kitchen and bring all the liquor you can find.”

“They’re Muslim, they won’t drink it,” Aliance reminded.

Jen shook her head. “We’re low on ethyl alcohol; I can use the booze as a topical.” Aliance chuckled and started out the door. “Oh, and no drinking it,” Jen called in jest.

Lana stuck her head in the surgery door holding a mask over her face. “We’ve run out of room in the recovery room. Letting you know I’m stacking them in the triage area.”

Jen winced. “Please, don’t say stack; sounds like they’re already dead.”

“Sorry,” Lana’s head disappeared to be replaced by two onagers bringing in a boar.


	10. Silent Death in the Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jen learns the hard way how brutal the Efrafans can be. The result is devastating and shatters her faith. She and her nurses are left feeling forsaken and alone. Then there is the quiet before the storm. Her reunion with Abhaysimah does not go as one might expect.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You might have noticed that Judy's information is several days behind what is happening in Togruk. That is intentional.

Judy checked her phone message. Jen again. “Efrafans arrived. War is on. Hearing drones overhead.”

“It’s Jen,” Judy handed the phone to her parents across the restaurant table.

Dickie Davis hugged her arm. “She’s still alive,” he assured. It was stating the obvious, but it was an obvious that really needed to be brought home to the worried family members.

“Drones are good,” Dickie’s mother, Laverne Carter-Davis PhD, said laying a white paw on Bonnie’s arm. “That means someone is keeping an eye on them and preparing a strategy to rescue them.”

“Why is it taking so long?” Stu worried.

“International bureaucracy,” Dickie grumbled. “I deal with it all the time.”

“But this is Afghanistan’s own mammals. Don’t they care?” Judy asked somewhat surprised.

“It’s a Sunni-Shiite thing. Oh, they’ll react if only not to be shown up,” Laverne said rolling her eyes. “They need to be SEEN saving their own.”

“None of this is very reassuring,” Stu grumbled. He looked at the Davises. “I am so sorry this should be a happy occasion and… well…”

“You’re upset and worried,” Laverne assured putting her arm around Bonnie’s shoulder. “We’ll wait until Dr. Hopps (she stated it proudly) gets back to set the date so that she can be the Maid of Honor.” She smiled at the roof. “I always wanted a medical doctor in the family.”

Everyone laughed easing the mood.

“Judy, don’t you have a ring?” Bonnie asked with concern.

“We haven’t picked it out yet. I don’t want it to be something I’m worried about when I’m on duty,” Judy explained leaning into Dickie’s embrace and ignoring her mother’s disapproving scowl.

She and her parents had talked long and hard about her career. She and Dickie also had a long talk, and the couple decided Judy would continue to work for as long as SHE chose to.

********

Jen found herself humming to the rhythmic sing-song chanting coming from the fortifications. Every night, the Efrafans would chant and drum the ground with a driving beat that tended to make her heart race. She realized they were psyching themselves up for further fighting and instilling their enemy with fear. She was sitting at the desk in the recovery room making entries. The place was filled with moaning wounded.

The fighting had gone on for almost 24 hours straight. When it finally stopped, it took the medical team nearly 16 hours to finish treating the wounded. Lana and Aliance were sleeping on the two operating tables in the surgery. None of them dared go outside to get to the kitchen or the dorm. Jen’s stomach growled at the neglect.

“The battalion should have reached us by now,” Taghavi worried his jaw as he tried to sooth a dromedary who had lost his hoof. “They would have brought more medicine and help.”

“I can guess why they aren’t here.” Jen jerked her head toward the distant chanting. “What are they doing?” she asked. “Put ice on it,” she instructed

“Trying to instill fear in us,” Taghavi explained as he pressed an ice pack against the stub. “It is an Efrafan tactic. They are proponents of psychological warfare; and they are very good at it. Demoralize the enemy, wear them down, then wipe them out.” He growled the last.

“You don’t like them,” she noted.

He shook his head. “They are traitors to their species. They will defend lions before they defend their own.”

Jen scratched her neck. She could smell herself. A shower would be so welcomed about now. But even if she could get to the showers, that generator was turned off so no power to pump the cold water much less make hot water. “I don’t know about that. Aliance said they used to fight for the Purrsian lions.”

“They were first bred as food for a mobile army, then to fight for the Nemean lions. You would think they would have no love for those who oppressed and used their ancestors in such a way.” Taghavi put a digit just inside the dromedary’s lip. “He is fevered.”

“We have no antibiotics. Yuri would have made a supply run the day after you attacked; there would have been two further supply runs since. Also, we never expected to end up in a war zone. Ours was a mission of mercy to a village struck by a natural disaster.” Jen dropped her head into her paws.

Her head came up at a cry from the direction of the surgery. Shortly after, Lana stumbled in groggily. It was hard to sleep these days, they all had nightmares.

“Coffee?” Lana asked.

“Out, sorry,” Jen explained.

“I’m going to go get something to eat,” Lana said heading for the door. “And a change of clothes.” She opened the door and the morning sun immediately dispelled the gloom.

Lana froze in the doorway and screamed.

Both Taghavi and Jen bolted toward the door. At the sight that met them, Jen dropped to her knees vomiting. Lana stood like a rock screaming continuously. Taghavi yelled a curse, pushed Lana out of his way, and began shouting orders.

Every Nasiri that had been on the mudslide had his throat slit. There was a straight line of dead Nasiri from the crest of the hill through the town to the east gate. Not ten feet from the surgery door lay Mahmud with his crutches. The blood had pooled and dried around his body; there was no weapon near him, he had been unarmed.

Jen vomited again even as she grabbed Taghavi’s sleeve. “Who?” she gasped.

“Efrafans!” He cursed in Pashto again. “They could still be here.”

“No,” Jen said forcing herself to check Mahmud’s body. “They’ve been dead hours. The blood has dried, and _rigor mortis_ is setting in.”

“What? They lefts us? Why didn’t they rescue us?” Lana was in a panic.

“Because they don’t care about you,” Taghavi snapped and jogged off to form up what was left of his company. About 30 of his force were heads on pikes adorning the Efrafan fortifications; another 15 were recovering from wounds in the hospital; and now another 17 lay dead at the paws of silent, invisible killers. And he had lost about seven of his soldiers from prior fighting. He had only 40 some-odd effectives left.

“They left us,” Lana kept repeating as tears coursed down her cheeks.

Jen took her by the shoulders to guide her back inside; she then saw Aliance in a feint in the doorway. Jen leaned Lana against the wall just inside the door and turned to rouse Aliance.

One of the villagers who had been helping with the wounded started yelling and took off running toward the village center.

Jen couldn’t tell if he was scared or happy or what those words even meant. Several of the more recovered patients stared at her expecting… something. They looked genuinely scared. She recognized several starting to pray.

“Why didn’t they rescue us? We were right here?” Lana begged for an answer. There would be none forthcoming.

“I’ll ask someone when all this is over,” Jen finally said and leaned against the wall herself. “In the meantime, we have patients.” She tried to work out why Mahmud was dead; on crutches and unarmed, he was no threat to anyone.

“They don’t care about us,” Lana was a mess, sobbing as she sank to the floor.

“You had hoped for some romantic rescue?” Jen snapped. “That Abhay and his commander on their valiant steeds would ride in here and carry us to safety? That only happens in storybooks.”

Lana looked up in shock at the angry doctor. “I…”

“It’s not about you or me or any of us. It’s about… them!” In frustration Jen gestured to the greater world. “We are just in the way of their magnificent ideals; the Nasiri and their non-predator utopia, and the Efrafans and their… glorious battles.” She stormed out of the building. The patients had to eat, and the kitchen was across the compound, the other side of the stiffening bodies.

********

“Why didn’t you hear them?” Lana asked. It had taken hours and a sedative to calm her down.

“The chanting and drumming and our own patients,” Jen explained. “That’s all the colonel and I heard. They were probably in there somewhere, but we didn’t notice.”

There had been no attacks during the daylight hours; but Taghavi hadn’t spared any of his men to pick up the dead; he had left that to the remaining villagers. The three medics had taken the lull to rest and change.

Jen finished her text and hit send. She groaned as the distant chanting started again.

“Will they attack again in the night?” Lana asked looking in horror toward the distant chant.

“I don’t think so. Taghavi has his men on high alert.” Jen turned off her phone and put it away. She would like to charge it, but they were using the generator for the hospital proper to conserve fuel. “There’s still those drones.” She looked toward the ceiling.

Aliance nodded.

“What does that mean?” Lana asked.

“Someone is watching us,” Aliance answered pulling on a clean set of scrubs. “Are we spending the night in the hospital again?”

Jen still felt funky even with clean clothes. “I think it wise,” she said heading out the door. She stepped out into the dark of night. Involuntarily she stopped and looked around in fear for silent and invisible killers. “Gah!” she growled to herself and marched for the door into the recovery area. Lana and Aliance followed.

“Can the dro…” Lana was cut off by Aliance clapping a hand over her mouth. The look in the older nurse’s eyes told Lana that mentioning drones meant life or death. Lana wanted to know if the drones could see anything in the dark. It was frustrating. She scowled but kept quiet. “Will we ever see the end of this?” she asked meekly.

“Our friendly, neighborhood, psychotic colonel is down over half his men and his glorious battalion is NOT coming. Our friendly, neighborhood, psychotic rescuers are still out there. Do the math,” Aliance snapped.

Jen stopped and spun on the two. “Listen, we are all upset. We are all stressed. We are all tired and hungry and at our wits end. We can NOT afford to start bickering. None of us have any answers to the questions we all share. All I feel I can do is put my head down and bull through it and HOPE to come out the other side. That might or might not work for you; but I do know none of us can get through this alone; we need to help each other, and we need to keep Col. Holy Retribution happy, so he doesn’t decide we are liabilities to be disposed of.” She spun and stalked off.

Lana gasped and gulped. Aliance took the squirrel’s paw and gave it a matronly squeeze. “She’s right. Tie a knot and hang on as the stupid-ass poster says.”

“When this is all over, I’m going to get a massage,” Lana muttered falling in step beside Aliance.

Aliance started laughing. It took a moment before Lana started laughing too. They hugged each other and entered the recovery room.

“They’re all still here,” Lana said in an almost childish tone of exasperation.

That made Aliance laugh more.

“Oh, my, God, I forgot. We have laughing gas for dental procedures,” Jen jumped up and ran off to supply.

“And valium,” Lana was right behind her.

When they returned, both were in a better mood. “I found one last vial of penicillin that had slipped off the back of the shelf and behind the valium,” Jen explained. “Aliance, give 10ccs of penicillin and 5ccs of the valium to the dromedary. Lana, you check the vitals of our patients in the triage.”

They had work to do.

********

“It’s so quiet,” Aliance peeked out the door the next morning. She could see the Nasiri still on the village wall and at the crest of the mudslide. Cautiously she ventured out followed by Jen and Lana.

It was eerie. Nothing was moving; not the breeze, not the birds, not the Nasiri. Taghavi was up on the wall standing very still looking toward the northern line of fortifications through field glasses.

“Are they alive or have we stepped into some Lovecraftian nightmare,” Lana asked.

Jen’s skin crawled. “Now I know why in movies they say, ‘It’s quiet, too quiet’.” Her ears picked something up. “Get inside now!”

Aliance was already dragging Lana back into the hospital.

“What is it?” Lana cried backing away from the door as Jen barred it.

“Ostriches,” Aliance said, “Hundreds of them running this way. And vehicles.”

“I heard the vehicles too; they’re a long way off,” Jen confirmed; she headed off at a run to bar all the other exterior doors. If someone wanted in, they would have to identify themselves first.

“Vehicles? Could it be Taghavi’s battalion?” Lana asked. She wasn’t sure if that frightened her or if any relief from this nightmare would be welcomed.

“Wrong direction,” Jen yelled from triage.

“Wrong direction?” Lana looked at Aliance.

“The Nasiri would be coming down the road from the west. The vehicles are east of us. Secure our patients.” Aliance began bustling about ensuring all their patients were secured so that if there were any explosions that might rock the building, no one would fall out of their bed.

All three cringed when they heard yelling and rifle fire. Lana could now hear the thunder of the Efrafan ostriches. Several of the patients, who were awake, started yelling in alarm. The three dispersed to keep them quiet.

“They’re breaking off,” Aliance said as the sound of ostriches running and gunfire changed.

Suddenly everything shook. Jen was checking on the patients housed in the triage area when she was knocked to the ground by a concussive explosion. Items fell off shelves and a couple of IV stands fell over.

“All clear?” she called.

“No injuries,” Aliance responded from the recovery room.

“What the hell was that?” Lana nearly screamed.

Everyone froze at the sound of hundreds of roaring lions just outside the village wall.

“On the floor!” Jen yelled when heavy rifle fire started ricocheting off the hospital walls.

The chattering sound of rifles they had become used too was suddenly joined by something with a much higher rate of fire; it sounded like Velcro being torn and was coming from above them.

Suddenly everything was quiet. “No one move,” Jen ordered from where she lay on the floor. She looked around and found that no bullets had penetrated the hospital’s armored walls. Slowly she stood. No one was saying anything.

Everyone jumped at a hammering on the door to the triage.

“League of Nations,” a deep male voice called. “Dr. Hopps, are you in there?”

Jen could hear Lana start crying in the recovery room. “I’m here,” she called rushing to open the door. She looked up at the tall, lean figure of a mahogany-colored horse in the uniform of a League of Nation Forces paratrooper captain. “I’m Dr. Hopps,” she introduced not sure if this was real.

“Capt. De Vries,” the elegantly maned horse announced with a gentle smile. “Are you the only survivor?”

“Nurse Aliance Moultrand and Nurse Lana James are with me.” She stopped him before he entered. “This is a hospital. All those in here are under my care and protection; I will not allow them to come to harm.”

“Of course, doctor,” he turned and called over his shoulder. “Have the medics report to me here as soon as they have secured the wounded for transport.

Jen stepped aside after the captain holstered his weapon. He entered and looked around. “How many patients do you have?”

“Fifteen, seven in here and eight in the recovery room.” She led him through.

Lana squealed and flung herself at him wrapping around one of his legs. He was startled at first but once he realized there was no danger, he relaxed and gently peeled the squirrel off.

“There are ambulances on the way. We…”

“We need antibiotics and painkillers,” Aliance interrupted him. “And we’re low on saline solution and bandages and suture thread.”

He nodded and walked over to the door. “Will you come with me please, Dr. Hopps? You can use our radio to tell headquarters what you need.”

Jen glanced at the other two. Aliance made a shooing motion. Jen stepped out into the morning light and carnage beyond anything she expected.

Mangled and torn bodies of Nasiri littered the street around a massive hole in part of the wattle-and-daub wall. The few surviving disarmed Nasiri were under the watchful eyes of LoN-F paratroopers as Efrafans and their allies glared menacingly at them.

“What will happen to them?” she asked the captain indicating the Nasiri.

“The Afghan army will take them. Their disposition is the Afghan government’s purview.”

“Jah-neen Khopps- _fa_ ,” a familiar voice called startling Jen. She saw Abhaysimha pushing through his friends with one arm in a sling, a Lee-Enfield rifle slung over his un-injured shoulder, a curved blade hanging at his side. Blood was splattered across his face and clothes. He paused at Jen’s horrified expression and that she took a step back.

She shook her head, pain wracking her body. “No,” she cried out and spun away to cry. Had he been part of the murder team the other night? It didn’t matter, she couldn’t look at him.

“Jan-neen Khopps- _fa_ ,” he sounded heartbroken. “Doctor- _fa_?”

“Sorry, Abhay. Please, go.” She managed through tears not looking at him.

“ _M’saion Frithrah narn_.” He said sadly and gently. She heard him walk away.

The captain lay his hooves on her shoulders and guided her away. She ended up at the damaged school, where she had spent her first night in the village. There was a makeshift table with a radio on it. The operator handed her his headset and the mic.

She was talking to a doctor back in the LoN-F hospital in Kabul. She gave all the information he asked for to include the names of the three deceased team members. She then told him what she needed desperately in the way of supplies. “Oh, and soap, lots of soap.”

She turned to head back to the hospital and caught sight of Taghavi; she couldn’t help but notice that he bore himself proudly in the face of his defeat. He was speaking with the Efrafan and LoN-F commanders.

“ _Owlsa-fa_ , why do you want the names of all my dead?” Taghavi demanded of the Efrafan. Jen could hear fear in his voice.

The pale brown hare, who looked to be the same age as Taghavi, turned and looked directly into Jen’s eyes even though she was several yards away. His eyes were as green as the clothes he wore and seemed to bore through her, as if he were looking for something inside her. Suddenly, an odd smile of recognition appeared as he glanced aside at Taghavi.

“To honor them,” he said in a loud clear voice toward Jen. He turned his intense gaze on Taghavi. “Tonight, we will honor the dead with _Inle Hain_. All dead; your dead, my dead, the LoN dead, the Afghan dead” he looked back at Jen. “The dead innocents murdered for no other reason than an accident of birth you Nasiri took exception to.”

She saw Taghavi wince. “I have the names of the dead. There is a book in the morgue,” she said.

“That would be a very great help,” said the LoN-F commander, an Asian bear.

Jen retrieved the Book of Names, as she and the nurses had started calling it. She handed it to the Efrafan commander. She then turned to Taghavi.

“Thank you for your kindness, colonel,” she told him.

“Saam?” he asked.

She smiled. “They will all pull through. Medicine is coming.”

She had a thought. “Commander, what will happen to Col. Taghavi?”

The Asian bear frowned. “He will stand trial for the murder of innocent males, females, and cubs. The trial will be at the World Court in Nuremberg; after the trial of _Die Adolf_ , the leader of the Thule society.”

Jen shook her head and looked at the shocked Nasiri colonel. “And so it goes; throughout history, your name will be forever linked to _Die Adolf_. I told you murder for murder is not the answer.” She went back to the hospital to report that help was coming.


	11. Separate Ways

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jen, Aliance, and Lana at last are evacuated out of Togruk and are reunited with Mado. They are transported first to Kabul for a press conference and debrief. From there, they are flown to the Lon-F hospital in Landstuhl in the Saarland. It is here the four share their plans for the future and part ways.

Judy jumped up and punched the air with both paws. Peter Mooseridge was reporting the League of Nations and the Afghan Army had liberated the village of Togruk. Dr. Jeanine Hopps, and nurses Aliance Moultrand and Lana James and Mado no-last-name were alive and well and would be returning to their homes as soon as they were cleared by the medical team at Landstuhl Armed Forces Hospital in Saarland.

Behind the anchor were MSF public release photos of Jen, a hare, a red squirrel, and an African cat.

Judy and the crowd in McGruff’s cheered

“We go now to Valerie Coneja in Kabul,” Growley announced.

“It’s morning here,” Valerie announced. “LoN 6th Army Commander General…”

Judy didn’t hear anymore. Behind Valerie was her sister; Jen’s ears were drooping, and her eyes looked haunted, but her smile was one of relief. She gave a little wave when Valerie turned to indicate the surviving medical team; Valerie surreptitiously returned the wave then faced back to the camera. Jen moved on with three other females.

“She looks like hell,” Nick noted.

“So that’s your sister,” Jacob studied her. “She’s very pretty; takes after your dad.”

“In looks only,” Judy admitted. “She’s more like me, driven and adventurous. Nick’s right, she looks like hell.”

“She’s been through a lot,” Fangmeyer the tiger said laying a supportive paw on Judy’s shoulder. “Too bad about the others though. I wonder how the cat survived.”

Fangmeyer the wolf nudged his adopted sister. “If you’d been listening to the report instead of admiring her tail, you’d have heard she fled the village when she had the chance,” he teased. “She was the one who reported the attack to the League of Nations.”

“I think, when she comes home, we should give Jen a police escort from the aerodrome to… wherever she’s staying,” Francine suggested.

“I suspect she’ll go home to recover on the farm with Mom and Dad,” Judy said.

“Then we will arrange an escort to the county line with the Tri-boroughs and let the sheriff take over from there.”

Judy jumped at Chief Bogo’s voice. This was only the second time she saw him in the off-duty hangout. She smiled sheepishly. “She’ll hate that; she doesn’t like attention.”

“Tough,” the crowd responded in unison.

“Hush, she’s talking,” Clawhauser shouted.

********

When Jen returned to the surgery after speaking to the LoN-F hospital in Kabul, there were two translators and three LoN-F medics. “Do you have penicillin?” she asked.

“Yes ma-am,” the Britannia badger, a sergeant, said standing at attention.

Jen’s heart skipped. “Saam, Davoud, and Hamed are all running fevers. Give each 25 ccs.” She pointed at the three beds. “How about painkillers?”

“Yes ma-am, we have Percocet.”

She instructed the badger in the disposition of the medications. The Australian koala was put in charge of changing bandages. The Marquesas Island pig scrubbed up with Aliance and Jen, so they could start working on the newly wounded as Lana triaged.

About two hours after her radio call, she heard a large dirigible land. Moments later two full surgical teams rushed in with supplies.

“Dr. Hopps, I’m Dr. Del Gato; I’ll take over from here. You and your staff go rest.” The jaguar gently urged Jen out of the surgery. “There are ambulances on their way; they will transport the wounded to Kabul. Once they are taken care of, you three will be taken to Kabul as well.”

“Home?” Lana asked in disbelief.

“Home,” Jen sighed.

Aliance started crying. “I will see my children again.”

Dr. Del Gato instructed one of the medics to assist the three to their dorm.

“Oh,” Jen paused before leaving. She gulped. “Doctors Schwartz and Robertson and Karpov are in the morgue.”

The jaguar lay her paws on Jen’s trembling shoulders. “They will go home too.”

Jen collapsed on her cot and cried herself to sleep. She awoke at the sound of an explosion. She sat up and listened. There was the rumble of vehicles moving through the village, calm mammals talking, the hum of generators, and the snores of Aliance and Lana. Jen checked her watch and realized she had been asleep five hours. She got up and went to the bathroom; when she finished, she grabbed a clean change of clothes and towel, put on a robe, and headed for the shower.

Everything was quiet. The flag of the League of Nations flew on a makeshift pole at the damaged school. The less injured on stretchers and the walking wounded were being moved to ambulances.

She laughed when she saw 20 bars of soap stacked on the shelf in the shower then took advantage of the replenishment of hot water. She felt like a new rabbit when she stepped out into the warm evening air.

“Dr. Hopps, there’s fresh grub down at the mess tent,” the badger pointed down the street where LoN-F and Afghan soldiers were coming and going, and the smell of a hot-cooked meal emanated. The badger fell into step beside her. “What are you doing awake already?”

“Nightmare, I dreamt we were being attacked again,” she admitted sheepishly.

“That happens; they’ll abate over time.” He held open the door into the mess tent.

“Where will we be going when we leave here?” she asked.

“First to Kabul then to the LoN hospital at Landstuhl. Just to check you out.”

They got their meals and sat down. Jen’s ears perked. “They’re singing again.”

“Who?” the badger asked.

“The Efrafans.” She could just hear the melody over thumping on the ground. She recognized it as the same tune Abhaysimha and his friends sang over the two mudslide victims.

“You can thank them for your rescue,” the badger said haphazardly.

“How so?” Jen asked.

“Well, as I understand it, they delivered one of your nurses to Herat; she reported to her bosses at MSF, who reported the attack to The LoN. The LoN immediately went to the Afghan government to get permission to launch a military counter attack; the Afghans dragged their feet and dragged their feet and… You get the idea.” He shook his head. “Something to do with how they worship Allah; Shiite vs Sunni or some such.” He shrugged. “Anyway, when the drone footage showed the Efrafans had arrived with about three Nemean lion tribes and four onager tribes, finally the Afghans decided they had to be the ones to free their village. They didn’t want a bunch of Shiite tribes from across the border doing their job.” The badger chuckled. “Though by the time we arrived, that tribal army had the situation pretty much in paw. Wasn’t much for the rest of us to do except keep them from slaughtering the Nasiri.”

“Col. Taghavi had worried that his support didn’t arrive; it made him frantic.”

“I bet it did,” the badger answered finishing off his dinner. “Let’s get back to the hospital; you might want to check in with Dr. Del Gato.” He took her tray and dropped it on a trolley on their way out.

********

It wasn’t until afternoon of the next day that Jen and the two nurses traveled by troop transport to Herat. The first face Jen saw as she was helped out of the truck was Mado. She shouted and ran to give the small cat a hug.

“You are not mad at Mado?” the African cat asked.

Jen gave her another squeeze. “You saved your life, AND you brought our situation to the attention of those who could help.”

Aliance and Lana joined them and the four hugged and cried and hugged again.

They were put up in a LoN-F billet for the night; they would fly to Kabul the next day to be debriefed. They had been warned to be careful about what they said about the Nasiri and Efrafan siege.

They changed into street clothes for the first time in over a month and a half, ate at a proper restaurant, and slept in real beds.

Early the next morning, they climbed onto a LoN-F blimp and flew to Kabul. Jen balked at the site of camera crews lining the landing pad.

“A short press conference,” their escort told them. “Dr. Hopps, as the senior member of the team, we expect you to make a prepared statement.”

“Prepared?” Jen frowned. “And why me? Aliance is older.”

“You’re a doctor, my dear,” Aliance took Jen’s arm in a warm embrace and walked with her off the gondola onto the tarmac. She linked arms with Lana, who linked with Mado; and the four followed their escort.

As they neared the press stand, Jen recognized one of the press corps, Valerie Coneja for ZNN. She smiled and waved, glad to see someone from home. Valerie winked and gave a tiny wave, then returned her attention to the LoN-F commander, General Maes.

A female tiger in a crisp LoN-F uniform came up to Jen. “Dr. Hopps, I’m Sgt. Rao, LoN-F public relations; this is the statement that’s been prepared for you to read.”

Jen read over the one-paragraph press release. “This minimizes what happened.” She looked up to the tiger. “I can’t say that.”

“Dr. Hopps,…”

“No, I need to tell the world it was terrible. The Nasiri are dangerous and shouldn’t be called… how does this put it? A small, isolated group of dissidents. They are neither small nor isolated nor dissidents; the Nasiri are well-equipped, murderous terrorists. And they aren’t an isolated small group; they had a battalion headed for Togruk. And the Efrafans were not a murderous invading horde; they were the only ones doing SOMETHING!” She shook the offending piece of paper in the face of Sgt. Rao.

“But…”

“But what? Nearly 1000 mammals were murdered in front of me including three of our team. Sure, we survived the Nasiri,” Jen indicated herself, Aliance, and Lana, “but the world needs to know how dangerous they are. And as for our rescue? We endured a psychological siege while you diddled around playing politics. Your delay cost the lives of probably 100 more mammals. And you want me to put a happy face on it?” She was on the verge of yelling and fought to keep her voice down.

“You’re on,” someone whispered pushing Jen toward the microphones.

“Dr. Hopps will now make a statement; please no questions,” Gen. Maes announced

Jen stood before the microphone and looked at the statement in her hands. “When I arrived at this same aerodrome over a month–and-a-half ago, I was part of an eight-mammal team of medical professionals going to Togruk; a rural farming village that lost its clinic due to earthquakes and mudslides. We ended up in a war zone under the control of the Nasiri Caliphate; these TERRORISTS murdered three members of our team as well as nearly half the residents of that tiny, peaceful village. Once all the carnivores were dead, the Nasiri did not hurt us, but let there be no doubt, we lived in constant fear. That nightmare is finally over. I know I am speaking for the others of my team when I say we are looking forward to going home and reconnecting with our families. I extend our thanks to the League of Nations Forces for bringing us back to the light.” She stepped away from the microphone.

“That was beautiful,” Aliance said giving her a hug.

The LoN-F tiger wasn’t happy, but even less happy was the Afghan public affairs officer, who happened to be a Sunni Muslim; he was downright livid. Jen didn’t care. They wanted the senior surviving member to make a statement and she did. She didn’t reveal any military secrets, but she spoke of the danger the Nasiri posed. She kept the Efrafans and their allies out of it. Her conscience was clear; she would not be part of a cover up.

They were immediately hustled into an awaiting vehicle that ferried them to 6th Army Headquarters for their debriefs.

The Afghan representative at the debrief kept demanding to know the name of the Efrafan leader. Jen countered with ignorance claiming there was no reason she should know his name. In frustration she accused Afghanistan of having an incompetent intelligence service.

“Okay, his name was Fred. It was Fred! Are you happy?” She finally shouted in the Afghan’s face. It was at that point the LoN-F agent ended the debriefing.

The four females met for supper in their hotel lounge.

“They kept asking who the Efrafan leader was,” Mado grumbled. “I wasn’t even there. Why should I know their leader’s name?”

“They kept asking me the same,” Lana commiserated. “Did you tell them?” She asked Jen.

“Why should I? So, they can accuse him of crimes he didn’t commit?” Jen folded her arms across her chest and glared at her drink.

“Do you know his name?” Aliance asked gently. She nodded when Jen cocked a small, sly smile.

“I think I do but I’m not certain it was the same mammal Abhay mentioned.” Jen released her tension and took a sip of her drink.

“Oh, I am so glad I found you.” The four were jarred out of themselves with the arrival of Valerie Coneja. “May I join you?”

Jen indicated an empty seat. “It’s good to see a familiar face so far from home.” She introduced Valerie to the other three.

Valerie smiled. “I have studied up on all of you and feel like I know you already.” She turned to Jen. “I have a message for you.”

Jen sat up. “From whom?”

“Your sister, of course. Judy told me to tell you to get your ass home ASAP.” Valerie gave Jen a mock glare.

“You know Judy?” Jen smiled warmly. She could see Judy with her arms crossed over her chest, glaring and thumping her right foot, always her right foot.

“Yeah, we met through a mutual friend. I’m dating one of her co-workers. You know of him. My _beau_ wrote YOU a letter.” Valerie pretended hurt.

“Who’s your jack-friend?” Jen asked curious.

“Jacob Raibert,” Valerie pulled a photo out of her purse and showed the photo of her with a tall, black hare.

“ _Inle roo_ ,” Aliance whispered.

Valerie chuckled. “He HATES that.”

“You are dating an Efrafan?” Jen was surprised. Her eyes popped open and she smiled. “You’re perfect!”

Valerie blinked. “Huh?”

Jen leaned forward and indicated Valerie come close. “The Afghan government seems dead set on making the Efrafans and their allies the bad guys in the whole mess with Togruk. They want to make this a religious jihad thing because the Nasiri are Sunni and the Efrafans and Togruk villagers are Shiite. This attack had zip-a-dee-doo-dah to do with religion. It had EVERYTHING to do with carnivores versus herbivores. The Nasiri want to eradicate all carnivores as much as the Thule want to eat all herbivores. Someone needs to get that message out.” Jen jerked her head vaguely in the direction of a group of LoN-F officers sitting across the room.

Valerie leaned in closer and asked in a hushed tone, “Where do I start?” Her journalistic Spidey senses were tingling. Here was the lead she had been looking for to write her story about the Nasiri’s rise to power.

“Abhaysimha ibn Karim said he was _Owsla_ for a tribe of nomadic ostrich herders from eastern Iran and western Afghanistan. He said he was third in command under _Owsla-fa_ Jahangir…”

“What?” Valerie sat up, her ears straight up and eyes wide.

Jen hesitated unsure what caused Valerie to react that way.

“ _Owsla-fa_?” Aliance asked in awe. “His leader is _Owsla-fa_?”

Jen looked confused as she nodded. “That’s what Abhay called him; the guy in green.”

“You don’t know what that means, do you?” Valerie asked cautiously.

“It means he’s like a general,” Jen was upset she would be thought stupid.

“The _Owsla-fa_ are a visionaries with the strength to act upon the visions they have,” Valerie explained.

“What do you mean by a visionary?” Jen glanced at Aliance.

Aliance shook her head. “What I’ve heard are myths and legends. _Owsla-fa_ always play important roles in them, but I never heard that they have visions.”

Valerie frowned. “Obviously you have more questions than Jacob’s letter could answer. When you get home, you should talk to him. He can explain it all much better than I.” She lay a paw on Jen’s shoulder and grinned naughtily. “In the meantime, I will blow the top off this whole cover up. By the time I’m done, the world will know the truth.” She stood. “I have a tribe of Efrafans to find. I’ll see you in Deerborn’s office.” She left the lounge.

Aliance leaned back and regarded Jen. “You know some very interesting people. Who is this Deerborn?”

“The first time I met Valerie was at a therapist’s office, J.L. Deerborn,” Jen explained.

The next day, they were put on a dirigible that took them to Landstuhl in the Germanic Saarland.

********

“My son is driving here to pick me up,” Aliance announced as the three sat in the hospital cafeteria eating breakfast. They had been cleared to go home. Mado had already left. “He should be here this evening.”

“My father will meet me at Heathrow Aerodrome. He will go with me to Edinburg to return Dorcas’ personal effects to her family,” Lana said. “I am on the morning flight.”

“Tomorrow, I am taking the train to Leipzig to return Dr. Schwartz’s personal effects. My flight doesn’t leave Frankfurt for four days, and it’ll be three more days with a layover in Chicago.” Jen sighed. “I told my mother I would call from O’Hare International Aerodrome to let her know when I am arriving.” She smiled. “She said they will meet me at the aerodrome. It will be so good to see them.”

“What are you going to do? Are you staying with MSF?” Lana asked Jen.

She shrugged. “I will work at one of the hospitals in Zootopia while I make a decision. I still want to help people but…”

“None of us want to end up in a similar situation; however, I have already accepted an assignment in Columbia setting up a hospital in the Andes.” Aliance smiled at the thought.

“You are so brave,” Lana said. “I… I just want to hide.”

Jen gave her a hug. “We all do, but I for one refuse to let those Nasiri win by making me afraid and making me hate.”

********

Jen sat at a window seat cradling a sealed, 2X2X2, cardboard box. In it were family photos that had stood beside Dr. Schwartz’s bed, his wallet, travel documents, jewelry, and books. His body was still in transit. On the box was the address of his wife and family. She had committed it to memory as she had the photos.

She tried to watch the countryside flying past the train; she kept seeing the farmland around Togruk. Fortunately, she had the compartment to herself; she wasn’t feeling particularly social. Everyone seemed so happy, and she just didn’t feel it.

She would deliver Dieter’s personal effects; tell his wife how much she admired him; find a hotel; and take the train to Frankfurt tomorrow. Her flight would leave the day after that. She had the number of a LoN liaison officer, if at any point she had questions or needed help.

At the Leipzig train station, she got a taxi to take her to the up-scale neighborhood that was the address on the box. She told the condominium doorman who she was there to see. He let her in.

She knocked on the door, at first tentatively then more confident.

A lanky, teen, wolf answered the door. Jen knew his name was Erich.

“Erich Schwartz? _Ich heisse_ Dr. Jeanine Hopps. _Ist deine mutter zu hause_?”

“ _Mutti, es ist eine Kaninchen_ ,” Erich called uncertainly over his shoulder. He held the door open but didn’t let Jen in.

Frau Schwartz looked drawn and exhausted. Jen knew her name was Marta. She introduced herself again. Marta gasped and rushed to greet Jen. She led Jen into the living room.

Jen set the box on a table. She found herself staring at Dieter’s wedding photo. “It’s… _Es ist_ …” she realized she was crying and couldn’t talk. All those things she was going to say went by the wayside. “ _Dieter war mein Freund_ ,” she finally managed.

Frau Schwartz sat on a sofa with a 12-year-old girl; her name was Carmen. Marta and Carmen were crying. Erich opened the box and lay the items out: pictures of him in his school soccer uniform holding a soccer ball, his sister proudly mounted on a show ostrich, and Dieter and Marta smiling at some awards supper; Dieter’s passport and visa; a wallet with Euros and Afghan afghani, a driver’s license, credit cards, medical cards, business cards, etc; a heavy class ring, his wedding ring, a swiss diving watch, and a necklace with a cross on it; medical books; and _The Holy_ _Bible_.

Dieter’s life was reduced to fit in that 2X2X2 cardboard box. Jen looked at his family, their lives shattered by hate.

Another female wolf entered the room; she was probably Dieter’s or Marta’s mother by the amount of grey around her muzzle. She brought a tray of tea, poured a cup, and handed it to Jen.

It helped, Jen felt stronger and she began telling the family about her time with Dr. Schwartz. She avoided telling them anything about the arrival of the Nasiri and his murder.

She ended up eating supper with the family and the older wolf, who was Marta’s mother.


	12. Home At Last

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jen returns to hearth and home and the love and support of family and friends.

Judy’s phone rang and ID’ed as Jen. “O-M-G, Jen, where are you?”

“I’m about to get on my flight to Zootopia. I’m on flight ZT2230 and should arrive about 6 a.m. I tried to call Mom and Dad, but it went to voicemail.”

Judy couldn’t help but squeal with delight.

“Is that your sister? Tell her welcome home,” Bucky called through the wall.

“Tell her I said hi,” Pronk added.

Judy giggled. “Bucky and Pronk said hi and welcome home. You remember them?”

“Yeah, hold the phone up. HI BUCKY, HI PRONK.” Jen could hear the two laughing through the wall over the phone. “They’re calling my flight, gotta go. Lots a love; see you in a bit.”

“Bye till the morning.” Judy disconnected the call. She had a bunch of calls to make now, per Chief Bogo’s orders, even if it was after 8 p.m.

********

Jen had a sleeping compartment on the dirigible; but it was hard to sleep. Part of it was because she was alone, having gotten used to the sounds of Lana and Aliance. Also, she had a nightmare of a giant wave sweeping across the land; she tried to run but couldn’t move; she jolted awake just before it curled to break over her.

She sat in her dimly lit compartment gasping for air as if the wave had tried to drown her. She immediately identified the wave as specie hate; first Bellwether then the Thule both in Zootopia, and then the Nasiri in Afghanistan; even the Efrafans of Purrsia. She lay back down promising herself she would call Dr. Deerborn, whom she had seen after the Mystic Springs Oasis attack. She wouldn’t allow hate to drown her.

She drifted off to sleep again and woke when the porter walked along the hall ringing a bell telling everyone they would be landing in two hours. She dressed, packed her overnight bag, and headed for the dining room. She sat alone and enjoyed it. She really didn’t know what she would talk about if someone sat down with her. She decided she must look surly since everyone who looked at her seemed to turn away rather quickly.

She ate a light breakfast and found a window seat in the salon. She could see the city in the distance under a sunny, cloudless sky. Her dad would be starting the harvest; it was all paws on deck during planting and harvest. Maybe he’d let her drive the tractor; she smiled at the memory of the first time he let her do that. She was eight and had to stand to see over the hood through the steering wheel and could barely reach the pedals.

The landing was uneventful, she debarked into the terminal and was immediately wrapped in her parents’ hugs. She looked up and saw Judy standing by in a gingham dress holding Dickie Davis’ paw. Jen peeled away from Bonnie and Stu and hugged her sister and future brother-in-law. They headed down to baggage claim and picked up her two suitcases. Judy and Dickie led the way to arrivals-pick up while Bonnie and Stu held one suitcase each and Jen’s arms.

The moment Jen stepped out of the terminal, she was nearly blinded by flashing blue and white lights. A towering Cape Buffalo in ZPD blue with four stars on his epaulets stepped forward.

“Welcome home, Dr. Jeanine Hopps. Officer Hopps’ OTHER family has turned out to ensure that you make it all the way home, safely.”

“Thank you, Chief Bogo.” Jen looked around for the family station wagon. Judy and Dickie were standing beside a Rolls Royce Silver Shadow with a liveried driver holding the door open.

“Your chariot awaits,” Dickie chimed indicating the plush, velvet, off-white interior.

Bonnie and Stu wouldn’t let go of Jen and climbed into the spacious luxury vehicle around her as the driver put her bags in the trunk. The three sat on the rear seat while Judy and Dickie sat on the seats facing them.

Nick’s muzzle came through the open window. “Heh, guys, are we ready to roll? Hi Jen.” He reached over and squeezed Jen’s paw. “Welcome home.” He retracted his head and gave a shout, “Let’s run some red lights.” He waved his paw over his head in a circular motion as he walked back to his cruiser.

The convoy began to move.

“What is this?” Jen finally asked.

“You are our local hero,” Dickie told her. “You are getting a hero’s welcome home, all the way home.”

“I’m no hero,” Jen sagged. “I was so scared the whole time.”

“Oh, Jen, being a hero doesn’t have anything to do with not being scared. It has everything to do with doing the right thing despite being scared.” Judy leaned over and hugged her sister.

Jen looked around uncertainly. “I keep expecting to wake up and be sleeping in the surgery while a war rages on around me.” She started crying. “Is it really over?”

Judy saw the stricken look on Stu’s face. She could tell he felt he had failed as a father: he had failed to protect Jen from the horror she experienced; he was failing now in that he couldn’t fix it.

“You can’t fix it, Dad,” Judy told him softly as Jen wept into Bonnie’s shoulder. “She doesn’t want you to fix it; she wants you to be there for her. Like you were there for me.”

Jen finally looked up and out the window. There were people lining the street waving and cheering. She could hear several ornicopters flying low overhead. Traffic stopped as they drove the cross-city turnpike between the aerodrome spur and the highway that would take her to Bonnyborough.

“Your room is just the way you left it,” Bonnie told her stroking her ears. “You can stay as long as you need.”

Jen smiled and rest her head on Bonnie’s shoulder. “Thanks, Mom.” She sighed. “Dad, can I drive the tractor?”

His laugh was full of relief. “Of course, Hun-bun.”


	13. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jen is working again at ZU Hospital. There is one thing left for her to reconcile before she can fully heal.  
> 

Jen had been working at the Zootopia University Teaching Hospital ER for three months. She was seeing J.L. Deerborn, PhD, for therapy. She was getting to where she understood the symptoms of Traumatic Stress Disorders and they frightened her less. She had been prescribed Ativan for anxiety attacks, Zoloft for depression, mood stabilizer Depakote, and a sleep aid to help her fall asleep.

There was one thing she had not been able to reconcile and Deerborn had been unable to help her with – Efrafans. The memory of them terrified her even more than her memory of the Nasiri. Deerborn explained it was because she could understand the motivation of the Nasiri; she had spoken with Col. Taghavi frequently and pointed out to him the fallacies of his faith in the Nasiri doctrine. She had no such experience with the Efrafans.

Why had they returned to the village with an army of lions and onagers to avenge lions? How could they have killed Nasiri so ruthlessly? Why had they not taken an opportunity to get the three females away from the Nasiri? What had the Efrafan commander been looking for when he stared at her? Why after killing the Nasiri would they want to honor those they killed?

She didn’t like not understanding. Lack of understanding is the core of ignorance. Ignorance leads to fear; fear leads to hate; hate leads to death.

She was compelled to make sense of the Efrafans. There was only one way to do that.

Judy had helped her connect with her friend, Jacob, the hare who had sent the letter. He had agreed to meet Jen at McGruff’s, the pub which Judy and her friends frequented. It was public, and it was safe.

Deerborn had helped her prepare psychologically and emotionally for the encounter.

It was an afternoon meeting on a work day. She walked into the tavern festooned with the owner’s memorabilia from his years with the ZPD. This time of day, there were very few patrons. Jen looked around and saw no hare so took a seat in a booth facing the door.

Her heart skipped a beat when she saw the tall, black hare stride through the door slipping off his LoN-F service cap and sticking it into the belt of his service kilt. Judy had mentioned he was still an activated LoN-F reservist.

Jen noticed his eyes. They locked onto her. They looked through her as he strode toward the booth. It was the same look she got from Owsla-fa Jahangir; Abhaysimha had never looked at her like that. Jen’s throat went dry and her eyes stung. She wanted to run. She gripped the edge of the table and kept her seat, forcing her breathing to slow. She sighed when Jacob didn’t smile in recognition as had Owsla-fa Jahangir.

The hare slipped into the booth across from her. “Jacob Emanuel Raibert, you may call me Emanuel.” He said formally as he reached across the table to shake her paw.

“Jen Hopps,” she responded nervously. She glanced up as the waitress came to the table.

“Their Cobb Salad is to die for,” he told her with a smile that seemed to relax his eyes.

She decided he either found or did not see what he was looking for. “Judy recommended their Herbivore Benedict.”

“Also an excellent choice. I hope you don’t mind, I’m ordering their fish burger.” Jacob looked up at the waitress. “One Herbivore Benedict and my regular and two coffees.”

“Thank you for the letter,” Jen said once the waitress left to place their order.

“I hope it helped,” he said. His eyes were boring into her again. “I take it not completely or you wouldn’t have asked for this meeting. How may I help?”

Her heart was racing. “You know the Efrafans attacked the Nasiri.” Jen looked at her paws trying to phrase what she wanted to know. She looked up at him. “Tell me about your people.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the end of Jen's story. You can make up anything you want from here on. Maybe she rejoins MSF to head off for another exotic corner of the world; or maybe she stays where she is, falls in love and gets married and raises a family. I leave that up to you.


End file.
